Kallipolis
by TV Manic 2
Summary: Sheppard and his team are sent to a legendary Ancient City with the aim of tracking down a ZPM or two, but when they meet the locals, things go to hell: literally. Team-fic with added Shep-whump, No pairings - Now Complete
1. Legend

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis **

**Summary: **Sheppard and his team are sent to a legendary Ancient City with the aim of tracking down a ZPM or two, but when they meet the locals, things go to hell: literally. Team-fic with added Shep-whump, No pairings

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Atlantis there is _no way_ I would've let it get cancelled

**Setting: **Set somewhere between season 2 and 3ish – I'm doubting there'll be spoilers

**Author's Note: **Having read plenty of Shep-whump here on fanfic I decided to have a go at it myself; although everyone gets their fair share as well :P

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter One -:- Legend<strong>

"Unscheduled Offworld Activation!"

Dr. Elizabeth Weir looked up from her tablet PC, the paperwork she had been dawdling over instantly forgotten. Her glass office was instantly lit with the blue glare from the active Stargate below. She watched Chuck the technician look intently at one of the many laptops, waiting for an IDC. Suddenly he cupped his hand to his earwig as if struggling to hear something. A look crossed over his face that instantly had Weir worried, and she leapt to her feet to scarper across the bridge to the control room. "What is it?"

"Colonel Sheppard is on the radio calling in from M78-297…"

"Lower the shield."

"He's telling me not to ma'am," Chuck replied, and he leaned across the ancient console, activating the speaker. The static-filled transmission was now audible to the whole control room, allowing Weir to speak without using her earwig.

"Colonel Sheppard?"

"_Elizabe-...-do not lower-...-shield!" _Sheppard's voice echoed around the control room, amplifying the urgency in his voice, despite it being barely above a whisper. _"We met th-...-locals, and they're rea-...-not friendly…Damn the-...-ast...Crap…"_

"John?" Elizabeth repeated, scared by the note of near-panic that had crept into her military commander's voice; a rare enough occurrence to multiply her worry ten-fold. Several loud thumps sounded from the gate room as dark shadows collided with the shield. "What was that? John? What's wrong? What's happening?"

A loud curse reverberated through the static followed by a grunt of pain. With only the sounds to go by, Weir's imagination filled in the rest. She really hoped it wasn't as horrible as the images her mind conjured. _"We need back-up…th-…-tracted to sound…" _The radio signal was getting worse, static almost drowning out the Colonel's voice. _"Need-...-umper…gaaghhh!" _The report of 9mm fire sounded over the line following the shout.

"John!" Elizabeth practically yelled. She might have been embarrassed by the highness of her voice if the situation was different, but as it stood she felt the panicked cry was the perfect pitch. The others in the control room were just as concerned, staring at the speaker as if they could see what was happening on the other side of the gate.

"_Ronan! Fall b-...-all back!" _More gunshots rang loudly in the control room, but even mixed with the static they didn't completely drown out the long string of curses and shouts coming through the open line, pain and panic lacing each syllable.

"John! Help is on the way! We're coming to get you! John!" Elizabeth called, injecting as much confidence and reassurance as she could into her voice, hoping that maybe just the idea of rescue would help Sheppard and his team to survive. It was difficult to keep her own hope from being crushed when the line went dead and the wormhole collapsed in the gate room.

A silence settled over the entire control room as its occupants tried to process what they had just heard in the transmission. Elizabeth recovered quickly, recognising the need for haste, and turned to Chuck who was currently a whiter shade of pale "Call Major Lorne and Dr. Beckett to my office immediately and have Zelenka ready a jumper for launch."

"Y-yes ma'am."

* * *

><p><strong>Twelve Hours Earlier – Atlantis<strong>

"As much as I _love_ trundling through the Ancient Database looking for tidbits of information, I have to point out that this exercise in futility is a ginormous waste of my time that could be far better used elsewhere working on one of my many, _many _important intellectual projects."

"Yes, yes Rodney, you mention this already," Dr. McKay's long suffering Czech friend, Dr. Zelenka, replied with a tired sigh. He still found it amazing, if a little draining, how McKay could say so little with so many words in such a short space of time. "But as _I_ have point out before, Dr. Weir ask us to do this search, so that is what we do."

The two scientists were seated in one of the many Ancient research labs scattered throughout the city, a large ornate console before them with a thin flexi screen covered in data suspended above. Both had several laptops between them plugged into the console running even more data at ridiculous speeds. McKay continued to huff, although he never actually stopped trolling through the facts and figures.

"So because Elizabeth wants to research _every_ myth and legend the Pegasus Galaxy spews out we're stuck in here pointlessly searching for some ancient fairy tale that predates even _the wraith_. How? How is that _ever _going to be helpful? Hmmm? May as well séance Walt Disney and ask if Snow White was real."

"Someone sounds cranky."

Zelenka sighed in pure relief when Colonel Sheppard and Teyla entered the room, providing Rodney with someone else to direct his annoyance at. He briefly contemplated sympathy, but realised that the two of them put up with McKay on a regular basis and seemed to have perfected the art of handling him. With a smile he added "And he has had his daily quota of coffee."

"Don't remind me," McKay replied with a grimace, gazing longingly at his empty coffee mug. "I'm the smartest guy in this city and have saved it on more than a few occasions and _still_ they force the rations on me. How am I supposed to function on less than five cups a day?"

"By spreading them out so they last you past 8am?" Sheppard suggested, glancing as his wristwatch. McKay grumbled something about his morning ritual being at least three cups as he turned back to his laptop to study the ancient data. "What are you doing anyway?"

"You mean other than wasting my precious time and intellect?" McKay retorted, earning himself an eye-roll from Sheppard. It was Zelenka who answered.

"Dr. Weir ask us to search the Ancient Database for the legend that Teyla told us of a while ago," Zelenka gestured at the Athosian, "about the city of Kallipolis."

Teyla nodded, and at Sheppard's bewildered look explained further. "There is a legend among my people about another City of the Ancestors, similar to Atlantis, called Kallipolis. It is said that it was a grand city that the Ancestors shared with humans long before the wraith become the scourge of the galaxy. It fell before their first awakening, although there is no consistent story as to how this came about."

"So we're thinking that if this legend is true we could find ourselves a few ZPMs?" Sheppard concluded, the chance to get the city more power making this apparent 'waste of time' appear more promising.

McKay made a dismissive noise, somewhere between a sigh and a snort. "Even if the legend _is_ true, which I highly doubt, the likelihood of finding functioning ZedPMs is slim to non-existent. The story goes that the city fell _before_ the arrival of the wraith, making this supposed city well over 10,000 years old. ZedPMs are good, but they're not _that_ good. But there's no point even discussing this because the city doesn't even exist-"

"Rodney," Zelenka interrupted; a smug expression on his face as he pointed at his laptop. "I just found gate address to Kallipolis."

* * *

><p>About an hour later, the MALP was ready to be sent through the gate to Kallipolis. McKay had been uncharacteristically silent during the set-up process, still nursing his ego after Zelenka had bashed it with his earlier victory. He glared at the Czech scientist over the top of the robot as he completed the preparations. He then looked up at the control room "MALP is ready for transport to M78-297."<p>

From her spot on the balcony of the control room, Elizabeth Weir nodded at Chuck to dial the gate. She glanced at Sheppard who stood beside her, one of his charming half-smiles on his face, as the whirring of the chevrons locking echoed around the space below. They watched as the wormhole burst to life with a loud _kawoosh_, and then settled into blue serenity. McKay and Zelenka backed away from the robot as it began its journey through the Stargate.

"MALP has successfully arrived at M78-297," Chuck informed them, tapping at his console and accompanying laptop simultaneously. He gestured at another screen. "Receiving telemetry. We've got visual…I think."

Elizabeth and Sheppard wandered back into the control room to see the screen as McKay and Zelenka bounded up the stairs to join them. They all stared at the black screen in mild confusion, understanding Chuck's uncertainty. McKay shuffled forward making an impatient clucking sound. "I'll switch it to night vision, shall I?"

Instantly the screen glowed green, vague shapes slowly coming into focus. The MALP's camera panned from left to right, revealing what appeared to be a courtyard, broken rubble strewn across the ground. Elizabeth took control of the MALP as she steered it to focus on an undamaged part of the structure. "It's definitely Ancient in design, although I'd say it pre-dated Atlantis judging by the materials used."

"So it really is Kallipolis?" asked Sheppard. Elizabeth gave him an excited grin in reply. He turned to McKay. "Is it save?"

"We've got viable life support, yes, although…" McKay trailed off as he continued tapping on another laptop. Sheppard waited a moment before prompting the scientist to continue. "There's an unnaturally high level of radiation in the atmosphere. I think it's within safe limits, but I'd like to run a few tests first, just to make sure. It will take an hour or so."

Elizabeth nodded, a gesture McKay took as a dismissal as he grabbed up the laptop and left, Zelenka trailing behind. She turned to Sheppard, her tone becoming more formal as she gave the order. "Colonel, have your team ready to go once McKay's gives the all clear."

* * *

><p>True to his word, McKay finished his tests within an hour and thirty minutes later the team stood at the gate, geared up and ready to go. Standing at her favourite spot on the control room balcony, Elizabeth gave the order for the gate to be dialled, and then watched her flagship gate team exchange banter below. She always memorised this moment of every mission, the time when everyone's still excited about the prospect of exploring new worlds and there's that adventurous spirit. For just that moment, the fear of the unknown and inevitable danger on the other side of the blue portal is buried beneath the optimism that <em>this time<em> nothing will go wrong.

She loved this period of brief reprieve, and she refused to let it be tainted by the following hours of nervousness and worry over what is really happening on the other side of the galaxy.

The Stargate whooshed into life and the four people below walked fearlessly towards the ominous blue circle. Sheppard felt her eyes on him and turned around at the last minute to give her a reassuring wave before stepping into the flickering wall.

Instantly a deep set feeling of unease settled in the pit of her stomach, some instinctual part of her reminding her that nothing ever goes completely right, especially with SGA-1.

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><p><strong>Sorry there was so much exposition in this chapter, but I had to get that in so that the fic would have at least a little bit of plot to with the whump :P This is a relatively short fic though, so the action starts next chapter!<strong>


	2. Fallout

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis **

**Thanks to sheppardlover928, highonscifi, Johnfan and kzican for reviewing!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two -:- Fallout<strong>

Dr. Rodney McKay sauntered into the gate room still zipping up his TAC vest while awkwardly juggling a tablet PC and life signs detector – quite a feat for someone who was also chewing on an energy bar as if it were the last in Atlantis. "We're ready to go?"

"Just waiting on you McKay," Sheppard said, amazingly easy-going. Ronan made a huff-like grunt, his patience obviously not as limitless, while Teyla stepped forward to relieve McKay of the tablet so he could actually get to his zip. "What took you so long?"

"I said I had tests to run, didn't I?" McKay replied crabbily, retrieving the tablet and shoving it into the pack on his back. "I wanted to check if the radiation would cause significant interference with the radios, which it shouldn't, by the way. At least not too much anyway," he conceded with a shrug. "And also, I've been keeping track of the amount of radiation that I have been exposed to in my lifetime and I'll have you know that it is a _lot._ I thought it would be prudent to make sure we weren't exposing ourselves unnecessarily to even more, although I'm sure you're not in the slightest bit bothered."

"Not really," Ronan grunted as he checked his energy weapon, itching to get going.

Teyla threw him a look then came to stand next to McKay, the four of them forming a line before the currently dormant portal. "Do you know why there is this radiation in the city?"

"Well, no, without actually going through the gate and checking things out, taking samples and whatnot I can't be sure," McKay held up both hands, now magically free of equipment, an excited look on his face. "But I do have a theory…"

"Of course you do," Sheppard muttered.

McKay ignored him, and without missing a beat continued "The radiation is consistent with that of the nuclear fallout of a place called Chernobyl on Earth, which is pretty much this place in Russia that is now completely uninhabitable following a meltdown at their nuclear power station. So I'm thinking that the reason the city fell was either due to some primitive nuclear reactor meltdown, or, more likely, due to a massive nuclear war that poisoned the atmosphere making the entire planet uninhabitable."

"But this Chernobyl place, it is uninhabitable following this meltdown, yes?" Teyla asked, concern creasing her features. "Does that not mean that this planet is still dangerous?"

It was Sheppard who answered, cutting across the beginning of McKay's sentence. "The Chernobyl disaster was about twenty years ago, so it's still highly irradiated, but whatever happened to M78-297 happened over 10,000 years ago; plenty of time to clean up most of the radiation."

"That's fascinating," Ronan deadpanned. "Can we go now?"

Through unintentional ironic timing, Weir in the control room chose that moment for Chuck to dial the gate, the circle of blue illuminating the room. Sheppard raised a brow with a half-smile, and then gestured for Ronan to go first. Teyla and McKay followed, leaving him to bring up the rear. As he stepped up to the gate he could feel Elizabeth's eyes on his back and he turned to give her a wave before he was swallowed by the wormhole.

The moment he stepped out the other side he had his P90 raised, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the planet as he scanned the immediate area for signs of movement. When the gate closed with a _splut_ behind him he did a slow turn on the spot. He paused when the torch on his weapon picked out strange marks on the gate. He ran his hand over the scratches, instantly concerned as to what could cause such damage to the naquedah ring. He felt an unease settle in his gut, his soldiers' instinct already warning him that something wasn't right. "McKay, any life signs?"

The scientist was down the stone steps from the gate, the trusty life signs detector already in his hand. "Nothing, just us four blips."

For some reason, that did absolutely nothing to ease the feeling of not-rightness the colonel had. Teyla and Ronan, who had been scouting the immediate vicinity, came back to the rubble-strewn courtyard, both shaking their heads at Sheppard's questioning look. "There are no signs that anything has been living here for a very long time."

"Plenty of battle damage though," Ronan added, gesturing at a gigantic hole in the wall surrounded by black charcoal. "Something put up one helluva fight."

Sheppard nodded, and then pointed at what remained of a neighbouring building. "Can you climb up there, see if you can't get a visual of this place, an idea of the layout?"

Ronan gave a cursory grunt of assent then set to finding a safe way to climb up while Teyla watched his six from the courtyard below. Sheppard then turned to where McKay had been standing a minute ago, only to look at thin air. He scanned around until he spotted him at the DHD at the bottom of the steps. Apparently the loudmouth scientist could be pretty stealth when he wanted. "What is it?"

"There's something written on the stone over here, but it's not Ancient…" he trailed off as Sheppard came over, peering at the worn stone plaque.

"It's Latin," he stated simply, surprised that McKay hadn't recognised it. He didn't see the scientist give him an astonished look as he stepped forward to brush some plant growth off part of the plaque. "Huh, well that's not good."

"What's not good?" McKay asked, impatient that Sheppard knew something that he didn't. The colonel didn't answer immediately as he double checked his translation. "Hello? What does it say?"

"_Coeptus Peregrinos_," Sheppard read aloud, pointing at the plaque. "Apologies Travellers, _Kallipolis erit requies tibi ultima, _Kallipolis will be your final resting place, _ut itrantibus nunquam reverti, _as those who enter can never return. Or something like that." He glanced at McKay who was looking at him incredulously. "What?"

"How the hell do you know Latin?"

Sheppard shrugged nonchalantly. "It was on my schools' curriculum."

"Oh yeah? And what school would that be?" McKay folded his arms, his disbelief evident.

Sheppard hesitated briefly before answering, "Milton Academy."

McKay's jaw dropped comically as his brain spurted random information from his bottomless pit of general knowledge. "Milton Academy? Isn't that some prestigious prep school in Massachusetts? Don't you have to be ridiculous rich or smart to go there?"

"Both actually," Sheppard muttered so quietly that McKay almost missed it. "But this is entirely beside the point." He continued louder, jabbing at the plaque for emphasis. "This is a warning that the gate is one-way, so do your science thing and check the DHD." He looked over at where Ronan was climbing back down the building. "How's it look?"

Once back in the courtyard, he and Teyla came over to the DHD. "It's pretty similar to Atlantis, but flatter; the buildings are shorter and the city spreads out further. There's a tower not far from here to the east, reckon it's probably the centre."

"Sounds like that's our best bet of finding any ZPMs," Sheppard turned to the scientist who was crouched by the DHD. "But can we get it back to Atlantis if we do?"

McKay manually closed an open crystal tray with an annoyed shove, and then stood up with a sigh. "The short answer is no. There is nothing physically wrong with the device, other than the fact it has absolutely no power running to it, and it probably hasn't for a very long time."

"Can you fix it?" Sheppard asked the inevitable question, and then braced himself for the following tirade.

"Oh sure, I'll just hook up to the car battery I've got stashed in my pack," McKay retorted sarcastically, and then continued, his gestures growing more wild with each word. "Seriously, what part of 'no power' do you misunderstand? The part where it doesn't exist or the part where I can't magic it out of thin air?" He sighed emphatically. "However, if by some miracle this ruin actually houses a ZedPM, I might be able to create a workaround to power the DHD, but it would mean that this whole outing was a huge waste of time because we'd have to leave it behind to keep the gate open anyway."

Sheppard waited a beat to make sure that the scientist was finished. "So you can fix it."

McKay glared at the pilot. "Did you not hear what I just said? _If_ we find a ZedPM I_ might_ be able to fix it…" he hesitated as he realised that it wasn't a question. He decided to finish the answer anyway. "Yes."

"Then we should probably get moving then," Sheppard concluded. His unease from the moment he had stepped through the gate had grown from the period spent idle in the courtyard. He felt as if something was coming, some sixth sense warning him that they weren't alone, despite what the Ancient device claimed. He gestured at Ronan "Lead the way."

* * *

><p>"If this is your idea of 'not far' I'd hate to experience 'miles away'," McKay grumbled as he plodded along behind Ronan. Teyla was to his left, and gave him a sympathetic smile. They had been walking for nearly half an hour by this point, the tower never seeming to get any closer despite the distance they covered. "Are we there yet?"<p>

"We'll get there when we get there," Sheppard mumbled from behind them. He had been practically silent the whole journey, his uneasy feeling making him paranoid about every shadow. A few times he had paused to shine his torch in dark corners, a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye catching his attention. "Are you sure there are no other life signs McKay?"

"Certain," the scientist answered, waving the Ancient life signs detector over his shoulder so that Sheppard could see. "Just us four dots, see?"

The sound of skittering stones sounded from somewhere behind them. All four dots froze. They raised their weapons, each one aiming at a different point on a compass. McKay managed to hold his 9mm handgun and work one-thumbed at the device. "It still says it's just us," he whispered, though at that point he didn't entirely trust the 10,000 year old computer. "Maybe it's the wind…or the local wildlife…"

Again the stones crunched, this time louder as the sound echoed around the desolate city. It was difficult to judge distance with the reverb, but it sounded close. And it was getting closer. The four of them remained tensed, panning torchlight around the immediate area. "Shouldn't wildlife show up on the detector?" Ronan hissed over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the encroaching shadows.

"Well, no," McKay began tapping away at the small screen, holstering his gun to make his work quicker. He kept talking quietly the whole time, his coping mechanism for edgy situations kicking in. "It's meant for identifying humanoid biosignatures so it blanks out anything giving off less energy than a small child; and as such a pack of wild dogs wouldn't register, nor would anything smaller like birds or lizards etcetera, etcetera. I'm trying lower the settings so that we can pick up on the omitted results…there that should…oh."

"What is it McKay?" Sheppard's patience was running thin, his state of constant alertness making him tetchy. Amazingly, the scientist said nothing and just passed him the detector, immediately redrawing his weapon. Sheppard looked at the tiny screen, taking in the now zoomed-out image of their four dots in the centre and a large portion of the surrounding area. And about 100 or so additional dots accumulated around the Stargate. "How big are they?"

"Big. I only lowered the settings the tiniest bit before they popped up," McKay answered, his eyes wide. He nodded at the device still in Sheppard's hand. "And they're heading towards us."

Sheppard gestured with his P90 for Ronan to start moving. "Let's put some distance between them and us." The large Satedan nodded then headed off with his weapon still raised. McKay fell into step between him and Teyla with Sheppard bringing up the rear, walking a few paces backwards and checking the detector before he turned and followed them.

The foreign dots immediately picked up the pace.

* * *

><p>Within ten minutes at double pace the team were within 500yards of the tower. It rose only ten or so levels from the ground which was at least five levels higher than the neighbouring buildings. Several streets all converged around the base of the tower, confirming it as a central point. The four of them walked down one of the streets, their formation adjusted so that Sheppard took point and Teyla was at their six.<p>

Sheppard slowed their pace as he checked the life signs detector. He then called them to a halt with a raised fist. The screen now showed them, the tower and the two streets that ran parallel to them on either side. There were twenty or so of the alien dots in each of the neighbouring streets, racing past them to cut them off. He passed the detector back down the line so that the others could see. At the back Teyla tucked the device inside her vest, effectively freeing her hands to use her P90. Knowing his team understood the situation, he waved his hand to indicate that they proceed with caution.

He clicked off his torch and the others followed, allowing their eyes to adjust to the darkness. He moved forwards in silence, his P90 against his shoulder. Towards the end of the street it opened into what appeared to be a city square, although it was more like an octagon, a street leading off from each side, divided by triangular shaped buildings on each corner. He caught sight of movement up ahead and froze. They were still on their street, surrounded by what was left of buildings on both sides. Unable to make out the shape up ahead, he gestured them towards the cover of a collapsed pillar nearby. They followed and the four of them came to a crouch behind the stones, peering over the top.

In the small amount of moonlight that was able to penetrate the cloud cover above they could just make out a handful of the creatures that had made it to the open square. They were humanoid in shape, round heads perched on thin necks that looked like that couldn't possibly support the weight. Grey skin clung close to their frail bone structure, their ribs visible beneath. On the end of spindly arms and legs were oversized hands and feet finished with large black claws that tapped on the stone floor as they walked hunched over like apes. Sheppard couldn't help but compare them to Golem from Lord of the Rings.

They appeared to move aimlessly around the square, crouching with their heads low to sniff at the ground or pausing to listen at the slightest sound. The closest of the creatures rocked back on his haunches to cock a disproportionately large ear, exposing its eerily human face. Its features were in the correct positions on its face, although its eyes were sealed shut and its jaw protruded slightly, the human mouth struggling to contain a maw of sharp teeth. Identifying the closed eyes to mean that the creatures couldn't see, Sheppard decided to test his theory. Without making a sound he turned on the torch on his P90 and shined it straight at the creature. It didn't react in the slightest.

Sheppard looked over at the others with his eyebrows raised. Despite the obvious teeth and claws they didn't seem all that dangerous; no match for their automatic weapons at least. The forty or so from the side streets had converged in the square, but even that number could be cut down quickly if it came to that. At that moment they were caught in a stalemate: go forward and risk provoking the creatures, or go back and find another way round.

"What do we do?" McKay whispered. His words were barely louder than a breath, but every creature in the square heard them. Each freakily human face snapped round to look in their direction.

All four of them froze for a moment, waiting for the creatures to look away. That was enough for Sheppard to decide that going back was the better choice. He made the sign for their retreat, and then climbed to his feet. The others rose with him and began backing up slowly, weapons trained on the creatures.

McKay made it a whole five feet without making a single sound, but then his shoe scuffed on a piece of rubble. And all Hell broke loose.

The creature that had been closest to them caught the noise, immediately launching itself in McKay's direction. It was soaring 8ft in the air between them when Ronan shot the creature, sending it crashing into the ground. The thirty-nine remaining creatures all came at them then, attracted by the ruckus. Without hesitation Sheppard and Teyla opened fire with their P90s, cutting through the first row of the attack, flashes of red light joining them from Ronan's pistol. McKay emptied his 9mm in seconds then fumbled to reload it while the others continued firing.

He had just finished the task of reloading the magazine when the deafening hail of gunfire came to an abrupt stop, less than a minute after it had started.

The moment of silence came to an end. All three men whipped round at Teyla's surprised and pained shout and recommenced firing. More of the creatures had crept up on them from behind, one of them already latched onto Teyla's back while the others swarmed in. They bounded like monkeys across the rubble, some of them defying gravity as they ran along the side of the surrounding buildings, throwing themselves at them from all sides.

With Sheppard and Ronan occupied with the sixty-plus alien creatures rushing at them, it fell to Rodney to help Teyla. She had been pushed to her knees by the creature's weight, the claws on its feet embedded into her shoulder as its hands scraped at her TAC vest, desperately trying to get to the flesh beneath. Rodney managed to shoot the creature off, his entire clip emptied into its chest, amazingly without hitting Teyla as he had feared. He allowed himself a moment of shocked pride before he saw her sink to the ground. "Teyla!"

Four creatures broke through the line of fire as Sheppard reloaded his P90. Attracted to Rodney's shout, they all descended on him at once. He collapsed under the weight and was lost in a frenzy of claws. He screamed in fear and pain, his brain telling him that that was a bad idea while his panic induced body argued that it was perfectly reasonable reaction. It felt like an eternity trapped under the creatures, but it was only seconds before they were shot off with controlled P90 fire. He didn't even have time to take stock of what body parts were still attached before he was being hauled up.

"Go! Fall back to the tower!" Sheppard yelled as he simultaneously helped Teyla lift Rodney and fired behind them at the wave of creatures. Once Teyla had Rodney's arm around her uninjured shoulder and was staggering towards the tower, he turned his full attention back to the enemy. He and Ronan laid down covering fire while walking backwards, closing the distance between them and shelter.

"John! Ronan! Move!" Teyla yelled from the entrance before her voice was swallowed by her own P90 fire. She managed to hold back the creatures long enough for the remainder of the team to make the run back to her. Once they were through the door she waved her hand over the corresponding sensor, the door sliding closed. Within seconds the unmistakable thumps of the creatures smacking the side of the building resounded inside.

Between them Sheppard and Ronan hauled a broken Ancient console in front of the door as a barricade while Teyla came to hover beside Rodney pulling out a field dressing. The scientist lay on the ground panting, his face pale and eyes wide as he clutched a deep wound on his thigh. Sheppard directed Ronan to check for other entrances as he came to a crouch beside his injured teammates. He took one look at Rodney's wound and the sheer volume of blood surrounding it, and suddenly he was in Afghanistan looking down at an injured Captain Holland. He blinked away the image, determined that this time it would end differently.

This time he would get them all home alive.

* * *

><p><strong>I don't claim to know anything about Latin, what you see above is stolen from Google translate, and as such is probably wrong. And I also know nothing about prestigious American prep schools (what with being British and all) so I picked Milton academy from a list on Wikipedia. Gotta love the internet :P<strong>


	3. The Tower

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis**

**Author's Note: **Super thanks to highonscfi, Becky, JoeyLuv, Sheppardlover928 and soccerchic6 for reviewing! It's great that your liking it so far, hope I can keep it up! And also, a quick apology; I had no idea I was spelling Ronon's name wrong, but from now on I'm going to spell it right :P Thanks Becky for letting me know!

Oh, just a quick note, this is now definitely set in season 3 after Phantoms as I'm going to be making a lot of references to the episode, just to add a little angst to the shep-whump :P

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Three -:- The Tower<strong>

Inside the tower it was pretty similar to any room of Atlantis, with the exception of the huge amounts of damage and the complete lack of windows, at least on the ground floor. The main door opened into a small control room, and then corridors lead into the depths of the building. Sheppard noted that the lights had come on automatically as they had entered and the door controls had responded to Teyla's command, "At least we know there's power."

"Th-that's good," Rodney managed through gritted teeth. He lay on his back on the floor, hands clenched above his chest as he tried not to shout in pain. Teyla was checking the other scratches while Sheppard tied the field dressing around the still bleeding leg wound. He sucked in a breath when Sheppard tugged a little too hard, then continued "We m-might not be as screwed as we th-thought. Just g-get me to a computer and I-I'll have us out of here in n-no time."

"Good to know we can still rely on you to save the day," Sheppard replied lightly. He finished wrapping the injury, and then studied Teyla for the first time. She looked almost as pale as Rodney and was definitely favouring her right arm. She winced as she sat back after completing her inspection, then caught Sheppard's worried gaze.

"The other injuries are superficial and have already ceased bleeding," she supplied, hoping to keep the attention on the scientist, who snorted unconvinced from his position between them. But Sheppard kept his eyes on her and she read the question as clear as if he had asked. "I am fine John. The vest you're people supplies works quite well against the creature's claws."

John raised an eyebrow, and then pointed at her shoulder. "So that's not blood I see right there, is it?"

Teyla glanced down at her arm, slightly confused. Then she saw the thick puddle of redness seeping through her jacket. She realised then that she could barely move her arm at all, at least not without provoking an unwanted flourish of pain. The adrenaline must have kept her from realising the full extent of her injuries. "Oh."

"Here, let me give you a hand," John offered as he scooted round to crouch next to her. She unzipped her TAC vest and jacket and he helped her shrug them off without pulling at her injured shoulder. Ronon took that moment to return from his scouting of the ground floor. The length of time it had taken was a testament to just how large the tower was. "Find anything?"

Ronon nodded. He still had his pistol drawn, though he was slightly more relaxed than he had been. John doubted he would let down his guard completely for a while yet. "There're no other doors but the walls are pretty thin in places; if those things find a weak spot they could get through easily." The creatures continued to hammer themselves against the outside wall, although most of their efforts were concentrated on the door. "Most of the inner walls are damaged, no complete rooms to make a stronghold out of. If they make it in, the only way is up." He gestured over his shoulder at the corridor he had come from. "The good news is there are no stairs on this level, but I did find a transporter which I doubt they'd be able to operate."

John finished tying the field dressing around Teyla's shoulder, both of them listening as Ronon talked. The wound was deep and obviously painful, but the Athosian refused to let anything more than a hiss escape her lips. "Okay, you should use the transporter and scout the upper levels, let us know what you find."

"A-and see if you c-can find a control r-room," Rodney added. "It w-will probably look like At-Atlantis'" Ronon gave another nod, and then disappeared down a corridor. Rodney turned to John, and then tried to sit up. "C-can you get my t-tablet?"

Teyla and John hooked a hand each in his TAC vest, keeping him upright while John yanked the computer from the pack on his back. They then dragged him slightly over to the right so that he could lean against a broken console. John had to admit that he was proud of the scientist. The hypochondriac had barely complained about his admittedly serious injury, and was keeping quiet rather than reacting to certain doom in his certain way. That might have something to do with the fact that if he did indulge in a loud rant he would probably incite the wrath of an entire army of Golem-like-creatures. John doubted they'd survive another round; not with the ammo they had left.

With Rodney occupied with his computer, John decided to stop and take stock of what they had. He had emptied his P90 as they had made their retreat into the tower, but he had another magazine that he reloaded with practiced effeciency. Just the one. It had taken two to take out the sixty or so creatures outside, and there were plenty more than that. He hadn't used his 9mil though, so he still had the clip in the gun and a spare in his vest. Teyla saw what John was doing and laid out her own arsenal. Her situation was similar to his, although she still had rounds in her P90. She had returned her jacket over her shoulders, but her vest still lay abandoned on the floor. She pulled out the scanner from an inside pocket and handed it over.

"They're backing off," John informed her as he checked the life signs detector. The thuds against the walls were relenting as well. "They must've gotten bored. Whatever those things are, they're freaking bi-polar."

Teyla had no idea what the term meant, but she translated it to refer to their two-sided nature. They went from calm, aimless, almost docile to frenzied killing beasts at the slightest noise. "They are intelligent as well," she pointed out. "They planned an ambush based on scent and sound alone. They are able to triangulate our position easily."

"And th-they look like Golem," Rodney helpfully added, not looking up from the PC. John was silently pleased that he wasn't the only one to draw the connection.

At Teyla's confused look, John helpfully added, "It's a character from a film, well technically from a book, but most people know it from the film. It's a human degraded by madness."

"Do you think that is what they are? Humans?" Teyla asked, concerned. "They certainly appeared human-like in shape. And their faces…"

John turned to Rodney. "Could the radiation have done that? Devolved the locals from humans to those things after the nuclear fallout?"

That made Rodney look up from his PC, his eyebrows raised in scorn. "No. Yes, radiation mutates the genetic structure, causing all kinds of damage and anomalies, but no, it can't create mutants like that. We may be intergalactic explorers meeting aliens and starting wars with vampiric locals but we don't live in a sci-fi show. It's far more likely that those things out there are another branch of the evolutionary chain that thrived _instead_ of humans due to the harsh environment."

Rodney had managed to overcome his panic-induced stutter, although the whispered lecture at the speed of light had taken its toll on his energy reserves. He took a deep breath at the end and closed his eyes against a wave of nausea. No one was saying it out loud, but the scientist was in bad shape. They had managed to at least slow the bleeding, but the damage was already done. He was already experiencing tachycardia, and his skin was pale and cold to the touch. He needed the help that they couldn't give him; sooner rather than later.

John glanced over at Teyla who was avoiding his gaze, the only sign she gave that she wasn't fairing a whole lot better. Once again he found himself in Afghanistan, the life of his friends in his hands. It was already obvious they couldn't wait for rescue, and trekking across the city wasn't a viable option either. He'd made those mistakes before. He'd failed before. This time it would be different. This time he was going to bring the help to them; even if that meant he wouldn't be around to see it.

"Hey," Ronon called quietly from the shadows of the corridor, dragging Sheppard out of his reverie. "I found the control room. Top floor."

"Okay, we should move. Come help me with McKay," John climbed to his feet. He took the PC from Rodney's grip without a word and passed it to Teyla to carry as she gathered up her vest and P90, tucking them under her good arm. She wavered slightly as she stood up too fast, but recovered quick enough for most of them not to notice. Between them, Ronon and John hauled McKay on to his good leg, and then he hobbled between them as they made their way to the tiny transporter.

Once up on the top floor they found themselves in what could easily have been the control tower of Atlantis. The two tiers of consoles were exactly the same; the only difference was that it didn't open up onto a gate room below. Instead a huge clear window gave them a clear view of the city below, including the gate in its courtyard some distance away.

Ronon and John helped Rodney to a seat in front of a console. Immediately the scientist removed a specially designed connector cable from inside the tablet's jacket and plugged it into the console. The entire room had come to the life the moment they had entered, just as it had when they first arrived in Atlantis, reacting to the ATA gene. The PC gave a beep of consent at the interaction with the Ancient device and Rodney began his work.

He ran a diagnostic that didn't require his full attention, and he found his gaze attracted to the window. "Why's this place so far from the damned gate?" he asked, although he sounded more annoyed at being made to walk than genuinely curious.

"Tactical advantage," John supplied from his place in front of the window. Ronon stood by the transporter, acting as the first line of defence should the creatures figure out the device, while Teyla had found herself a seat near Rodney, her own injury making it hard for her to remain standing. "This place is far enough from the gate that it shouldn't fall instantly if an enemy were to come through, but they can still see it. That's probably why the buildings are lower so that they don't obstruct the view."

"Fascinating," Rodney replied without heart, his attention already drawn back to the data flowing across the tablet's screen.

John wasn't particularly bothered though, his own mind working out their next problem. He was better at assessing situations from an aerial standpoint, what with being a natural pilot, and from this altitude he could gain a much better understanding of the city below. He was already working out and memorising the fastest route back to the gate, a plan forming in his mind. All he needed was for Rodney to work one of his miracles with the powerless DHD and this nightmare was another step closer to being over.

It didn't take long. "Huh," the scientist muttered, the first sound for nearly twenty minutes. He was even paler than he had been the last time John had looked, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow as he shivered slightly. They really didn't have long at all. Teyla appeared to have dozed off a little, though she was wide awake at the slight noise. "I think I know why the DHD doesn't work; they did it on purpose."

"Why would they do that?" Teyla asked, her quick mind obviously not functioning as fast as usual. John already had a pretty good idea. The moment he had read the plaque he had known that there was something the previous owners had wanted to keep from the rest of the galaxy.

"Part of the legend was right, Ancients and humans did live here together, but not quite in the perfect harmony they'd have us believe," Rodney began his explanation, a look of horror on his face. "And you were also right that those things out there used to be humans, or at least their ancestors were. They're the by-product of early Ancient experiments into nuclear power. ZedPMs were still in the early stages of development - they've got a basic one powering this place now - but they were also researching ways of refining more primitive power sources and all sorts of other things. They accidently exposed the entire population to two experiments at once – a huge radiation spillage from the nuclear project and a crowd control drug designed to subdue people. It didn't work, by the way, and the mix of the two pretty much devolved everyone to those things outside."

Teyla felt her faith in the Ancestors take yet another beating. She rarely regretted her choice to join the people of Atlantis, but one of the cons to the decision was the sheer volume of things she learned about the Ancestors that battered her deep faith in them. The more she learned the more she realised that they were far from the perfect peoples she believed in. "Th-then what happened?"

"When the people of Kallipolis stopped contact with Atlantis they sent a few Ancients over to investigate. They were horrified by what they found; but they were also embarrassed. They shut off all power to the DHD so that anyone that came here and learned their secret would be stuck and unable to reveal it to anyone else." Rodney paused, exhaustion evident on his face. "At the time, the atmosphere was still thick with the fallout so the Ancients they sent through were also exposed. Before they devolved as well they initiated the protocols, trapping themselves with the creatures. They hoped that without a food source they would die out, but I guess they didn't. "

"Have we been exposed?" John asked the question that they had all been thinking. There was no way they could bring such a disease back to Atlantis.

Rodney shook his head. "No, the fallout is practically completely dissolved by now. We're only being exposed to slightly higher radiation levels than we would experience on Earth, well within safe levels, and the MALP said there were no other toxins in the atmosphere. When we get back they should definitely run a tox screen just to make sure though."

"Okay," John said slowly, processing the info dump they had just received. "So all we need to do is reinitiate power to the DHD and then we have options." He said aloud, although he had already long decided on a course of action, he just didn't want the argument to start yet. He gave Rodney a half-smile "And by 'we' I mean 'you'. You can do it right?"

"Oh sure," the usual McKay sarcasm crept back into his voice. "All I've got to do is translate 12,000year old Ancient programming and override emergency failsafe's and input some of my own brilliant programming and all sorts of other complicated things that you couldn't even _begin_ to _want_ to understand."

"So…twenty minutes?" John retorted, his smile growing.

"Don't impose such stupid deadlines," Rodney replied with mock annoyance, and then he gave a weak smile to match John's. "My genius will have it done in ten."

"So, what's the plan?" Ronon grunted from the transporter. He had been watching Sheppard the whole time, recognising his team leader's eyes as he came up with a solution. He had also already guessed that the man had come up with something that they weren't going to like.

It was Teyla who answered though, as if she had been having the same thoughts as the Satedan. "We are meant to check-in in less than two hours. When we miss the call they will know that something is wrong and send a rescue."

Sheppard immediately shook his head. "Protocol says that they have to wait an additional 30 minutes after a missed check-in, and it will take at least another half hour on top of that for them to assemble the rescue team. That's three hours we don't have." _Three hours _Rodney _doesn't have_ was the unspoken sentiment, although all three of them caught it. The scientist was getting worse, his shivers getting more prominent even as he worked, and Teyla wasn't much better.

"And the alternative?" Teyla was almost afraid to ask. She noticed that Rodney paused in his work and Ronon stood up a little straighter.

Sheppard had his back to them as he still continued to stare out the window. He'd been preparing for this ever since they first arrived at the tower. He had already decided that he wasn't going to repeat past mistakes. He hated that when he looked at the city below his mind supplied images of the Afghanistan desert, tormenting him with guilt he had attempted to bury. Maybe the similarity of the two situations was clouding his judgment, but he didn't care. _This_ scenario would end differently.

"There's Intel that Atlantis needs to prepare the rescue team. They need to know about the creatures, and they'll probably need a jumper as well. We need a med team and we need heavy ordnance. I don't even have any C4 for Christ's sake," he berated himself for not being completely prepared. He had briefly considered setting up a distraction to buy them time to get all of them to the gate, then realised he'd left the explosive behind. He swallowed the annoyance and set his voice to his emotionless soldier-mode. "We need back-up sooner rather than later. I'm going to go get it."

"John…" Teyla began, hating the coldness of his voice. He spoke over her, not allowing her to make an argument.

"As soon as McKay gets the DHD working I can get to the gate in ten minutes and have back-up here within forty. I'll have to radio it in because we can't risk Atlantis lowering the shield and those things getting through."

"That's a terrible plan!" Rodney exclaimed. His hand had subconsciously gone to his leg in a vain attempt to apply pressure and keep him from bleeding out as quickly as they feared. He was well aware that he wasn't going to last a great deal longer without medical intervention, although he hadn't voiced his fear aloud. His vision had begun to blur as he worked and he was struggling to remain clear headed as the shivers and his own heart worked faster. "The creatures know we're here! They're going to react to every tiny sound as if someone's ringing a dinner bell! Do you realise how loud a Stargate activating is? They'll be on you in seconds!"

John changed tactics, adjusting his emotionless voice to something more light-hearted. He gave Rodney a smirk over his shoulder "Now that's exaggerating. It will take them a minute or so to get there. Plenty of time to establish a radio link and let Atlantis know we're in trouble."

"McKay is right," Teyla stood, trying to prove that she was in better shape than she was. She mentally cursed when she swayed on her feet from the inevitable head rush. She knew John had seen the weakness, but she kept up the façade regardless. "There's no guarantee that plan will work. You could be sacrificing yourself for nothing, John. I will admit that our time is short, but by your own logic we may be able to make it to the gate, all of us."

"No we won't. Rodney can't walk unassisted and you're barely standing on your own. It would take too long. We'd make too much noise. And even if we did make it the gate, Atlantis wouldn't be able to lower the shield anyway because the creatures will be on it. They'd send a rescue party for our dead bodies." John stated, returning to his cold tone as he finally turned to face them. "_I_ will admit that chances of success aren't that great, but it's better than waiting around here watching you bleed to death!"

Teyla recognised the look on John's face. She had seen it in the woods when the wraith device had forced him to relive a past trauma. She could see it in his eyes that he was there, in some godforsaken desert watching a friend die slowly while he was powerless to help. She wanted to argue and yell and convince him that this was different, but she knew his mind was made up. He was going to go through with the plan regardless, and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him.

The silence that followed the outburst was broken by Ronon. "Then we double our chances. I'll come with you. If you fail I'll give us a second go at it." At John's look, Ronon shrugged. "I'm no better at sitting around doing nothing than you are. You want to go ahead with this plan, this is the only way I'm going to let that happen."

Rodney watched the exchange in horror. The two men were discussing the most efficient way to sacrifice themselves so that he and Teyla might survive. It shocked him to his very core, and for one of those very rare moments he found himself with absolutely nothing to say. He wanted to talk them out of it, to put on a brave face and say he could wait it out, but he knew that wasn't true. He needed them to do this, even if he didn't want them to.

"Okay," John agreed, his eyes meeting Ronon's as they both signed their own death warrants. There was no asking whether the Satedan was sure about his choice, no second guessing. John saw in Ronon what he was sure was reflected on his own face; stubborn resolve. "Rodney, are you nearly done?"

McKay glanced down at his tablet, silently praying that he wasn't as good as he claimed. He swallowed hard, trying not to let his voice crack. "Almost. Another five minutes maybe."

"We should get moving, you'll be done by the time we get there," John decided, his hands gripping his P90 that had been hanging from his vest. He nodded at Ronon and the pair entered the transporter.

Teyla had nothing to say as she watched them, self-rebuke making her curse her injury. She knew that if she hadn't been injured they may have had a chance to make it home together. As it stood, she doubted she'd ever see the two men again. This happened too often to lead to a healthy mental state, she decided. How many times had she watched Lt. Col. John Sheppard run off to his own end? She hoped that this time would be like the others. Some magical unforeseen factor would intervene and return them both to her amazingly unharmed. But there were only so many times that could happen; surely their luck would run out?

Rodney couldn't let Sheppard have the last word, especially not if the guy was about to die for him. As Ronon tapped the dot indicating the ground floor, he called through the open door "You're insane, you know that, don't you?"

John gave the man his best mischievous grin as the doors shut with a whoosh and a blue light flashed. And just like that, they were gone.

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><p><strong>A little bit of a talky chapter, but I love writing the dynamic between them all, even in dire circumstances lol Action picks up again next chapter as we go full circle back to the prologue!<strong>


	4. Teeth and Claws

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis **

**Author's Notes:**

Wow! Thanks to JoeyLuv, soccerchic6, Astrollama, sheppardlover928, AlexanderD, *pauses for breath* BookEmDanno50 and shepsgirl72 for the great reviews! They're doing wonders for both my ego and my muse :P

And another apology (there's probably gonna be one every chapter lol) I was making up all the stuff about ZMP development last chap (obviously, cause its wrong…ooops) I didn't realise how old they were, I just wanted a reason for the ancients to be messing about with nuclear power – thanks to AlexanderD for pointing it out :D

And now I have finished filling my word count with Author's Notes, we can get back to the Shep-whump…I mean…story…

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter Four -:- Teeth and Claws<strong>

The two men arrived on the ground floor of the tower and stepped out of the transporter. Neither of them spoke, instead focusing on the task at hand and trying not to think too hard about the likely end result. They entered into the first room, the console still wedged against the door. Sheppard paused to check the life signs detector "Clear."

Between them they wrestled the barricade out of the way, making an amazing lack of noise, although the quiet scuffles echoed uncomfortably loud in their ears. With the way clear Sheppard waved a hand over the door control and they strolled carefully out into the night.

They ran in total silence straight down the middle of the street, the focus being on remaining quiet rather than unseen. They followed the route Sheppard had memorised, covering ground in record time. They only paused every now and again to check the detector, keeping an eye on the creatures' dots. The pilot kept a mental clock of their progress and at exactly five minutes waved Ronon into the cover of a nearby building.

They both crouched in the shadows, and then Sheppard activated his radio with two taps of static. "McKay, this is Sheppard, you read?"

"_Loud and clear_," came the begrudging reply. Obviously the cranky scientist was still not happy with the plan. Sheppard let his eyes stray again to the detector, checking the conversation wasn't drawing unwanted attention. "You're not there already are you?"

"No, half way," Sheppard confirmed their position. As he had predicted they had closed the distance significantly faster than they had with the others on their first trip. "Just checking this isn't a wasted journey."

He heard a sigh over the static of the connection; two parts reluctance one part classic McKay annoyance. "_It's done. The DHD has power again for the first time in over 10,000 years. I'm running a diagnostic to confirm, but we won't know for sure if it will work until…well, until you actually dial it_."

Sheppard hadn't considered the possibility that the DHD wouldn't work even after McKay had worked his magic. He felt another dent being chipped into his master plan, his chances of success diminishing below 50/50. It was Ronon that voiced his concern though "So this might not even work anyway?"

"_I told you it was a bad plan."_ Rodney replied, although it didn't sound like one of his usual 'I told you so' retorts. Sheppard decided to let the scientist have the last word and closed the link. He didn't need any more bad news. He was checking the scanner again when he felt Ronon's eyes burning into him.

"This isn't looking good, Sheppard," The Satedan said quietly when he looked up. He wasn't backing out; the warrior had never backed down from a fight in his life. He was just stating the facts. He was a soldier who followed orders, but he recognised a doomed mission when he saw one – he just hoped that Sheppard saw it too. "You know this isn't going to work, right?"

Sheppard just gave him a grim smile; the look that let the Satedan know that he was well aware of the likely outcome. "I gonna stick with blind optimism until the shit hits the fan. Then you can engrave 'it was a terrible plan' on my tombstone."

Ronon met his friend's eyes, debating whether or not to hit the man upside the head. He let his look say it all instead. "How'd you want to play this?"

"Okay, I'm going to enter the courtyard on the South side while you take cover in the building to the East next to the DHD. I'll dial the gate and call Atlantis, get as much Intel through as I can before they're on me. You are to stay put and hold your fire until it becomes obvious the plan failed. Maintain radio silence unless I'm dead and the gate is open for you to make the call. Once the message is through I'm gonna yell for you to fall back, and Ronon, that's exactly what you're gonna do. You make sure you get back to the others and keep them safe until help gets there, you got that?"

Ronon set his jaw, annoyance evident. He realised that this was what Sheppard had had planned from the beginning. He was only there to play witness and run the information back to the others. Sheppard had never intended to put him in the line of fire; that was his burden to bear and he was never going to let any of them lighten the load. He took Ronon's silence to be a mark of consent, and unclipped his P90. "This is going to be of far more use to you than me. Let's get moving."

It took another five minutes for them to reach the courtyard, a journey that passed it silence, more from the tension between the two men than actual necessity. As soon as they had a visual on the gate they came to a crouch behind some rubble. Sheppard gave the detector one last check before passing it to Ronon; there were a lot of alien dots in the vicinity, although the area around the gate was amazingly clear. They would all come running the second he started dialling.

The reality set in for Sheppard in that moment, and he hesitated. Despite what many were led to believe from his many suicide missions (flying a nuke into a hive anyone?) he was not in the slightest bit suicidal. He was just the guy that did what had to be done. The thought that he was about to die scared the crap out of him. He didn't really want to; and death by crazy-Golem-horde definitely wouldn't have been his first choice. But the thought of failing his team was even scarier than that. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his spiking heart rate, well aware that Ronon was watching him the entire time.

This close to the creatures Sheppard resorted to hand signals and he indicated for Ronon to go to his assigned position. He reiterated the need for silence and that he should stay in position with a few terse gestures. He received a reluctant glare in reply before the Satedan slinked off into the shadows with more grace than a man his size had any right to have.

And then it was show time.

This was not how Lt. Col. John Sheppard had imagined his last stand. He let out a breath, solidifying his resolve, and then drew his 9mm. He would have been far happier with the weight of a P90 to his shoulder, but he feared that he would be tempted to be trigger happy the second the creatures appeared. Besides, he was right that Ronon would have far more use for it. He tried to draw reassurance from the cold metal of the handgun, and then began his walk down the green mile.

He made it all the way to the DHD without making a single sound. There was no movement in the area, no indication that the creatures knew he was there. He stepped up to the device, reassured by the slight glow of the central button confirming that there was indeed power getting to it. The gun in his right hand, he used his left to dial.

The moment he touched the first symbol, the gate hummed to life. He had never realised just how loud the machine was before. He completed the dialling sequence and slammed down on the central button, then waited for the gate to catch up. It seemed to take forever for the chevrons to lock into place. Time that John was all too aware was counting quickly down.

Then came the deafening _kawoosh_ of the wormhole initiating. The torrent of energy shot out of the ring, sounding as loud as a bullet to John's ears. It was then sucked back in, the vortex settling into a vertical blue pool.

The sound of claws skittering against stone resounded over the hum of the active gate. They were already on their way.

"Atlantis this is Sheppard, do you read?" John established the radio link. He had forgone the procedure of sending his IDC, one to save time and two to prevent Atlantis from lowering the shield. Static answered him and he felt his heart sink. "Atlantis! This is Sheppard! Do you read?"

"_Colon-…-eppard, this is Atlantis,"_ Chuck the technician's voice came over the line, confusion evident in his tone. "_Sir, I'm not reading an ID-"_

"That's cause I haven't sent one!" Sheppard tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. They didn't have time for protocol damnnit. The creatures were getting closer. "Listen, just don't lower the shield and get Elizabeth on the line, now!"

There was a painfully long wait as Chuck did as instructed. It was probably less than five seconds but it still felt like an age. Surely it didn't usually take this long to walk across the bridge from Weir's office to the control tower. He found himself hissing under his breath, as the first of the creatures became visible, clambering over roofs less than three streets over. "Walk faster damnnit, come on, come on…"

"_Colonel She-…-ard?" _

"Elizabeth!" John could have smiled right then, if it weren't for the fact his death was racing towards him. "Do not lower the shield! We met the locals and they're really not friendly…" his voice trailed slightly as the creatures dropped into the courtyard. Immediately they gathered around the Stargate, scraping the naquedah ring as if there was meat underneath. "Damn their fast…" he barely whispered. The nearest Golem spun round to face him. "Crap."

"_John?"_

The creatures still at the gate began to take an interest in the wormhole in the centre of the ring. Obviously dissatisfied with the lack of flesh beneath metal they began diving at the blue void. John felt a strange sense of pleasure knowing that they would be colliding fatally with Atlantis' shield. It faded quickly though when he realised the creature that had heard him earlier was still staring at him. He didn't have time to be careful and wait for the thing to re-join the others kamikaze-ing the gate.

"_What wa-…-hat? John-…-at's wrong? What's hap-…-ning?"_

It didn't matter anyway. The creature heard the hiss of the radio, confirming John's presence. It launched itself into the air, coming straight at him. Every fibre of his body wanted to shoot the spitting harbinger of death, but he knew that the sound of the shot would just attract more, and he hadn't actually given any vital information. He needed more time.

Instead, in the split second between the creature leaving the ground and flying towards him he skilfully spun the pistol in his hand so that he gripped the barrel. He brought the butt of the gun round like a club and crunched it into the creature's skull while it was still airborne. It let out an inhuman cry – something John hadn't counted on – its claws swinging blindly as it jack-hammered into the concrete. "Shit."

The rest of the creatures were now well aware of him. So much for more time. He made to tap at his earpiece, an unconscious act that wasn't in the slightest bit necessary; the line was already open. He let out a short grunt of pain when the movement pulled at a fresh injury. The creature's claws had opened up his left arm in its final act.

He ignored it though. The creatures were coming at him and he _still_ hadn't sent the message. What was taking him so damn long? Why was _everything_ taking so damn long?

"We need back-up!" that was the important thing right? John struggled to remember what he was supposed to be saying as the creatures closed the distance between them. But he couldn't focus. His death was imminent…why was he doing this again? An image of Rodney and Teyla as he had left them in the tower flashed into his mind. He couldn't fail. Not when he was this close.

"These things are attracted to sound!" he managed to shout. That was important. They had to know that. What else? Damnnit! Think! Several creatures took to the air, reminding him of another detail. "We need a jumper!"

He raised his pistol, years of military training and instinct finally taking over. Fear stopped holding him back as he pulled the trigger. So, he was about to die. That didn't matter. He had completed the mission. He hadn't failed.

The first bullet struck the closest creature and sent it spinning into another and both of them crashed into the ground. He had sighted and fired at his second target before the first had bit the dust. He caught the second creature square between the eyes, the impact sending it into a graceful backflip before it belly-flopped the concrete. The third and fourth round also found their targets, but it was nowhere near enough.

A creature avoided all his bullets, flying at his injured left arm. It came at him, hands first, burying its claws into his shoulder. Its momentum dragged it round so that it ended up on his back, its toes finding purchase on a loop of his vest. The impact spun John slightly, throwing off his fifth shot, but he remained on his feet. He let out a cry as the creature bit through his jacket, taking a chunk of arm with the fabric. He turned his gun on the gnawing thing, the bullet throwing it off. But there were more to take its place.

Even as he was being overrun, blood running from open wounds, he remembered Ronon. He had seen red flashes from his friend's energy weapon, evidence that he had every intention of disobeying John's orders. It was probably the only reason he was still alive and standing. But he didn't matter anymore. Ronon needed to get back to protect the others; there was no point wasting two lives. He shot off another creature that had attached itself to his leg and shouted "Ronon! Fall back! Fall back!"

Another creature replaced the one on his leg, barrelling into the back of his knees. Two others were on his back, pulling on his vest. Together they dragged him to the ground, and he found himself looking at a smoggy sky. He kept fighting, letting out a stream of curses that would have been impressive under any other circumstances. He fired his gun into as many of the creatures as possible until it clicked empty. He kept pulling the trigger regardless as he bucked and writhed, trying to throw them off.

One of the monsters heard the hollow clicks and locked its jaws around his thumb, making him release the useless thing with a yell. Yet another creature had him completely pinned, its toes curled into the flesh between the bottom of his vest and his belt to keep it balanced as it hacked at his TAC vest, desperate to get to the flesh beneath.

Strength was flooding out of him to join the blood that covered the ground. His struggling slowed as his vision blurred and his consciousness threatened to leave.

"_John-…-elp is on t-…-ay! We're coming -…-et you! Jo-…-!"_

The Stargate shut itself down with a quiet _splut_, but John was content in the knowledge that the message was heard. His team would get home alive. _That_ was all that mattered.

It had all happened so fast, even if it had felt like an eternity. Less than a minute had passed since the first creature had taken to the air. It had taken him less than a minute to die. He found himself a little disappointed; maybe he was a little arrogant to believe he could've survived longer, but still – he was _that guy_. If the stories were to be believed he was a hero. Surely it would take more than a minute to kill him?

* * *

><p><strong>Atlantis -:- Present<strong>

"_Ronon! Fall b-…-all back!"_

"_John! Help is on the way! We're coming to get you! John!"_

The recording came to an end with sickening finality. Elizabeth Weir stood behind her desk chair, her knuckles white as she gripped its back. She looked up from the laptop to look at the two men opposite her. Both of them wore the same concerned look she was sure was reflected on her own face.

"When was this recorded?" Major Lorne asked.

"Less than five minutes ago, I called you both straight away," Elizabeth answered. Dr. Beckett remained silent, the shock from hearing the transmission taking a moment longer to pass. She had managed to bury the horror that John's voice had instilled in her, instead focusing on getting the team the help that they needed. "Time is of the essence. I have Zelenka readying a jumper as we speak and I want you, your team and Carson ready to leave ASAP. I don't know what's going on, but I want them home now."

"Yes Ma'am," Lorne answered crisply and left the glass office, leaving Beckett alone with Elizabeth.

She gave a heavy sigh, forcing her hands to release the death grip on the chair. "What the hell happened, Carson? I swear only a few hours ago they were standing down there, all of them, perfectly fine."

"I don't know, love," Carson replied, finding his voice. He placed a hand on her shoulder, "But we'll be sure to ask them the second we get them home."

Elizabeth's eyes strayed back to the laptop, the media player asking her if she wanted to play the file again. She didn't need to. She could still hear John's fear-lined voice inside her head. His words had been echoing like a broken record ever since the transmission had ended, and she knew it would continue to do so until she saw them all again. _If_ she saw them all again. "I've got a terrible feeling, Carson."

"We will bring them home." Carson said with certainty, meeting her eyes. She gave a small nod, and then he left the office as well, leaving her alone.

"Just bring them home safe."

* * *

><p><strong>Kallipolis<strong>

Ronon fired at the creatures, completely disregarding his standing orders. His blaster cut down the surging wave, the sound of the weapon's charge loud in his ears. But the creatures ignored him. They were far more interested in Sheppard.

"Ronon! Fall back! Fall back!" came his leader's shout. The mission was complete. The message was through and Atlantis would soon be sending a rescue. This nightmare of a mission was about to come to an end. But he'd be damned if he was leaving his friend behind. He switched his pistol for Sheppard's P90, knowing the automatic weapon would be more efficient at cutting through the creatures. He stood from his crouch behind the crumbled building's wall, and opened fire.

The creatures had Sheppard on the ground, a frenzy going on as they tried to rip through his TAC vest, scattering the pocket's contents around them. Ronon started his assault with short controlled bursts to take out the creatures mauling Sheppard without killing the man himself. As expected, the louder weapon drew the attention of the other creatures to him, but it also drew them away from Sheppard. There was so much blood.

There were only twenty or so creatures left in the courtyard, and he managed to dispatch them quickly enough. He was well aware that more would be on the way, and Sheppard hadn't given him a second clip of ammo. He crept out of his position in a running crouch, weapon raised warily, knowing how fast the creatures could come out of nowhere.

He made it to Sheppard's side and almost froze when he finally got a look at him. There was blood everywhere, still pouring from multiple open wounds. He was deathly white, glassy eyes staring up at the sky. Ronon truly believed him to be dead, until the colonel blinked. "Y-you dis-s-obeyed a d-direct ord-der, Sp-specialist."

Ronon didn't know what to say. He'd never been good with words, but at that point he couldn't think of any. He simply couldn't voice the relief at seeing the man alive.

"Th-thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>You thought I killed him, didn't you? Hell, I thought I'd killed him – but hey, there's still time yet!<strong>


	5. Fading Away

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis**

**Author's Notes: **I know I'm sounding like a broken record, but major thanks goes to shepsgirl72, sheppardlover928, soccerchic6, Astrollama, highonscifi, sherry57 and AlexanderD for the great reviews! They are the reason I can churn out nearly 4,000 words a day and are greatly pampering my muse (and my ego lol)

Amazingly, I don't believe I have any apologies to make for the last chapter, so I'm going to pre-empt the next one: I am sorry in advance for the multitude of medical inaccuracies in the following chapter; I'm using Wikipedia and a Writer's Guide to Wounds and Injuries for reference but I admit to knowing nothing about what to do in the following scenario. Belief may have to be suspended for a while :P

Okay, I'm done. On with the show! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five -:- Fading Away<strong>

The creatures were coming.

Ronon could hear the insect-like clicking of their overgrown claws on stone as they clambered eagerly over the nearby buildings. He risked a glance at the P90 – less than half a clip left. Nowhere near enough to take a stand. And then there was Sheppard. The pilot was barely conscious, his eyes unfocused as he struggled against the pain he was in. They didn't have time to stop and patch him up there. Ronon only hoped the injured man had the strength to last until they got back to the tower.

His decision was made the second he had heard the coming threat. He gripped Sheppard's slightly less shredded arm and hauled him up and over his left shoulder, freeing up his right hand to hold the weapon. The movement jolted Sheppard's multiple injuries, dragging him back to the surface as he let out a cry of pain. Ronon wanted to apologise, but he didn't have time to be nice.

He was up and running before the creature's entered the courtyard. He took a small leap over some rubble to save time going round, wincing when he heard Sheppard shout. The man had taken a death grip on the runner's coat collar, focusing the last of his reserves on trying to stay quiet.

But the cry had been enough for the creature's to figure out where they were and the direction they were heading in. Ronon heard them closing the distance behind him, and he swung the weapon round to spray the horde with bullets. His pace didn't slow. In the moment that he had glanced behind he had seen two groups of the creature's break off. They were going to go around, cutting them off like they had earlier. They were about to be surrounded.

But there were only so many behind him. Ronon turned while still moving backwards, allowing him to take better aim at the creatures that stalked them. They were keeping a respectable distance, their aim to run them into the others rather than to catch them themselves, making them perfect targets. The runner planned his counter attack a split second before he acted, the P90 rounds slicing through the twenty or so creatures of the front line.

There were only another fifteen left, but the previous attack had emptied the automatic weapon. Ronon threw the P90 to the ground and switched back to his energy pistol. He was down to single shots, and the creatures had decided to change tactics.

They no longer held back, recognising that their initial plan had failed. Instead they fell back on their animal instincts, launching themselves at where the sound of the loud gun had echoed moments before.

Ronon fired seven shots in quick succession, each one finding a creature in a fatal kill shot. But the remaining eight were too close for him to take them all at once. He was about to be overrun, and he couldn't fight with Sheppard on his shoulder.

Instead he ran. He took off down the street, his long strides swallowing the distance. But the creatures were just as fast and he barely put twelve feet between them. He spotted a gap in the front of a building and took a sharp left. The move momentarily baffled the creatures, some halting abruptly while the others kept barrelling onwards.

Ronon crouched in the darkness of their temporary sanctuary, watching the remaining four creatures cautiously. They began wandering in circles, as aimless as they had appeared when the team had first seen them. But now Ronon was well aware of how quick that could change. If he were alone, he probably could've just slipped away unnoticed, but as long as he had Sheppard, he couldn't guarantee a silent escape. The stoic soldier had managed to remain remarkably quiet despite the jostling, and Ronon suspected that he had fallen unconscious.

He waited a whole minute, all the while knowing that Sheppard didn't have that much time left. The creatures still hadn't left. They were blocking the exit, though probably not intentionally. He felt Sheppard shudder against his shoulder, a painful reminder that he really didn't have time for this.

Loss of patience and the desire to inflict bodily harm on the creatures helped speed along Ronon's decision. As carefully as he could, he lowered Sheppard off of his shoulder, propping him against an interior wall. The movement woke the man, and Ronon clamped a hand over his mouth before he could cry out in pain. In his blood-loss-induced confusion, the sudden restriction made Sheppard panic. He bucked weakly, forcing Ronon to place his other hand on his chest to keep him still. His wild eyes found Ronon's, and through the haze he found a face he trusted. It was enough to calm him slightly, and he gave a small nod.

Ronon slowly took his hand away, and true to his silent gesture, Sheppard remained quiet. The runner explained the situation in hand signals, finishing with a 'be right back' informal sign. Sheppard gave another nod, and Ronon slipped away, sword drawn from the sheath on his back.

Once back outside, Ronon moved with the well-practiced stealth of someone who had spent their whole life hunting. He couldn't risk attracting more of the creatures with the sound of his gun, so he had switched to his equally deadly blade. He would just need to get a bit closer.

The first one fell with barely a sound. Ronon simply stepped up behind it and beheaded it with a clean swing. The _swoosh_ of the blade cutting air followed by twin soft thumps of body and head hitting the ground didn't even stir the other three. But then it went wrong.

Maybe the second one had picked up on the scent of Sheppard's blood on his coat. Maybe it had just pretended not to react to the first kill. It didn't matter. The moment Ronon was in range for the second swipe, the creature turned and launched itself at him. He made the tiniest grunt from the impact of the creature on his chest, and suddenly the other two were coming at him as well.

He let out a feral growl, barely louder than his grunt, as he skewered the creature clinging to his chest. He swung the sword in a wide arc, the motion sliding the creature off his blade and sending it rolling as it hit concrete. The move may have cleared his sword, but it left him open. He threw up an arm as the second to last thing came flying at his face. The creature used his arm like a balance bar – its claws wrapping round his forearm as it let its momentum swing its legs at his exposed chest.

Ronon had to split his attention between the creature on his arm and the other coming low at his leg. He extended his arm to keep the first one away from him while he swung his blade at the other. The plan half-worked; the second creature was severed in half at the shoulders, sending detached limbs flying as it hit the ground. The first creature however had managed to stretch its legs long enough for its clawed toes to scrape deeply across his side.

He swallowed the shout of pain and sliced the final creature neatly in two.

He briefly sunk to his knees, panting as the adrenaline threatened to leave his body. His left side and his forearm were bleeding badly and he gritted his teeth against the pain. He'd had worse, he told himself. He pressed his elbow against his side and looped the thumb of the same injured arm into a fastening on his coat, effectively stemming the flow of both wounds. It would be enough for now.

He climbed to his feet with a hiss, and then made his way back to where he'd left Sheppard. He stepped inside the building and came to a careful crouch next to him. Sheppard's pale skin seemed to glow in the minimal light, and Ronon could see the sweat on his face. The pilot opened his eyes the moment he felt his presence, concern for his friend evident despite his own injuries.

"I'm fine," the Satedan muttered as if Sheppard had actually asked the question. He pulled the life-signs detector he had been given earlier out of his coat pocket with his good arm. He gave a grunt at the lifeless screen. It must have turned itself off without Sheppard's mental command keeping it active. "Can you turn it on?"

Sheppard gave a nod, but struggled to lift his right arm. The wounds on his shoulder had probably caused some nerve damage, so Ronon lifted it for him, placing the scanner in the man's hand. It took a beat longer than usual for the device to activate. "H-how's it l-look?"

Ronon checked on the progress of the two groups sent off to cut them off ahead. They were waiting patiently at a crossroads not that much further up the road. "They're blocking the direct route, but there's another way that's clear. Shouldn't take us more than ten minutes. We should get moving."

"Y-you sh-should ju-s-st go…"

"We're not having this argument Sheppard," Ronon cut him off, tucking the scanner back inside his coat. He tapped his radio. "Teyla, this is Ronon. We're on our way back, have a first aid kit ready."

"_Unde-…-ood. How bad?"_

"Bad." Ronon replied simply, and then cut the transmission. He turned to Sheppard who was still looking at him, his eyes asking for the runner to go without him. If he was honest with himself, he highly doubted the man would make it the optimistic ten minutes to the tower, but there was no way in hell he was going to leave him here. If there was even the slightest chance he'd survive, he'd take it. Besides, this was Sheppard. He'd seen the man pull through before.

"I c-can make it an or-order…"

"Wouldn't change a thing," Ronon said honestly. "Now shut up so I can get us back alive."

"Y-yes-sir."

* * *

><p>Once Rodney had finished making the adjustments to the city's power grid to allow the DHD to be dialled Teyla had helped him to the transporter and back downstairs. Both of them wanted to be there as soon as the others came back. <em>If<em> they came back.

Teyla shook her head to clear the fear from her mind. She would not allow herself to think like that. She had helped Rodney back to the console he was propped against earlier and then took up her post by the door. Admittedly, she had to lean against the frame to keep herself upright, but she would remain standing regardless. She could feel her heart beat fast in her chest as it struggled to pump the necessary blood round her body. A significant amount was outside her body, staining her jacket and seeping through the field dressing.

Rodney was barely conscious, his head lolling slightly as he sat on the floor. His breathing was faster than even his usual standards and his skin was cold and clammy to the touch. Even from this distance she could see the cold sweat on his brow. Nearly the entirety of his right pant leg was dark with blood, the field dressing soaked to the same colour. They really didn't have much more time.

How long had it been now? It felt like hours, but she doubted that much time had truly passed. She checked her watch. They should've made it to the gate by now. She tapped her radio, hoping to listen in on the transmission, but she was met with a burst of static.

"Th-the radiation is me-messing with the s-s-signal," Rodney helpfully informed her. Obviously he had tried the same thing, although she hadn't even known he was conscious. "Th-they're t-too far. They'll b-be able to c-contact us when their cl-closer…on th-their way b-back."

So they were both sticking with stubborn optimism then. Neither of them voiced the giant 'if' but it was hovering like the proverbial elephant in the room.

They spent the next ten or so minutes in silence, both of them waiting for the radio call. They knew that if they were being pursued they wouldn't risk the noise, but they held out hope that soon they would receive news. The suspense and tension in the air was almost as palpable as the elephant, making Teyla anxious and twitchy. She held her P90 to her chest, her finger a hairsbreadth away from the trigger.

"_Tey-…-this is Ronon-...-on-…-way back-…-firstaid-…-ready."_

Teyla had jumped at the initial hiss of static, and she saw Rodney stiffen from his perch on the floor. She listened intently to the message, but the line was terrible. She couldn't tell if Ronon was alone or not. She wanted to ask, to draw as much information as she could, but she knew this wasn't the time. "Understood," she said instead, but she couldn't help but add "How bad?"

"_Bad."_

That word echoed across the distance between them as clear as a bell. It also told Teyla all she needed to know. The runner would never admit how serious his own injuries were. Sheppard was alive; if only just. The transmission ended with a short click, but Teyla had already jumped into action. She retrieved her TAC vest from its abandoned place on the floor near Rodney and started emptying the relevant pockets. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the scientist doing the same. Both of them had heard the subtext.

They laid out what little they had between them. A penlight, a pair of scissors, alcohol wipes, two tiny bottles of iodine solution, two cold-packs, a thermometer, two blister packs of paracetamol and four sterilised field dressings. Teyla doubted the pathetic display would be enough and tugged off her jacket to cut into more bandages. She hardly felt the ache in her shoulder from the movement, so intent was she on her task.

She began shredding her jacket with the small scissors as Rodney shrugged out of his TAC vest and jacket. He gave an impatient double-click and pointed at her jacket "I'll d-do that, you cl-clear a space."

Teyla saw his logic and handed the fabric over. There was no way Rodney could stand at this point, especially not on his own, but he could use both hands, unlike her. She stood too fast and nearly fell back down as darkness flashed before eyes, but it passed and she set to work. She cleared a gap in the rubble, big enough for two people right next to where Rodney was sat. It probably wasn't the most sterile place, but it was only a stop gap until the help arrived. They only had to hold out a little bit longer.

Another ten minutes must have passed as there came a thump at the door. Teyla immediately snatched up her P90, pointing it at the bottle-neck the door would create if it were unwanted guests. But she lowered it the second the door opened, revealing the two men.

She had never seen so much blood.

Ronon staggered slightly as he entered, his weight unbalanced on his right side where a semi-conscious Sheppard was leaning heavily against him, an arm slung over his shoulder. Recovering from the initial shock in a millisecond, she darted forward to help lower him to the ground. The door closed at Ronon's command and he collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he sat on the floor. He was exhausted from keeping such a fast pace with both Sheppard and his injuries, but he remained silent, allowing Teyla – the only truly mobile one – to look after Sheppard.

"John? John? Can you hear me?" Teyla asked, not bothering to keep the desperation from her voice. He lay prone before her, the only movement the slight rise and fall of his chest.

In the low light the Ancient structure provided she could see the extent and volume of his injuries. There were minor scratches all over his legs, but they were dwarfed by an almost bone-deep gash on his left thigh, his pant-leg black with blood. She unzipped his ruined TAC vest to find more blood soaking through the lower part of his jacket from six distinct grooves on his abdomen. Further up, his left shoulder and arm were a mess of tattered flesh and skin. A claw must have scraped at his neck, a shallow wound just missing the major artery by millimetres. His right arm was covered in scrapes that culminated in a vicious bite to his hand. Blood seemed to be coming from every pore on his body.

"T-Tey-la?" his voice came out as whisper between hitched breaths. She didn't know whether to be relieved to hear his voice or horrified by the fact he was conscious. She couldn't even begin to imagine the pain he must be in.

"You are going to be alright, John," Teyla injected far more confidence than she felt into her voice.

John blinked, trying to focus his sluggish thoughts on something other than his own overwhelming pain. He recognised Teyla's voice through the haze. He knew he was back in the tower. How did he get there? There was something important… "R-Ron-nan…"

"He is right here, John," Teyla answered from what seemed like miles away. She was out of his eye line, working a field dressing around the wound on his leg. He hadn't reacted in the slightest to the splash of iodine she had used in an attempt to clean the wound, everything hurt too damned much for him to differentiate.

"N-no…he's h-hurt…"

"I'm fine," the Satedan growled, although he barely had the strength to sound entirely convincing. Teyla threw him a look, quickly taking in the amount of blood on Ronon's left side, rather than the right where he had carried John. Even from that distance it looked serious, but there was no way she could leave John.

She was unzipping his jacket to get to the wound on his abdomen as she explained with genuine guilt "I hate to play favourites John, but he will have to wait. You are in a far worse state."

John wasn't taking no for an answer though as he tried to push her away. The shove had no strength behind it, but the message was clear. Teyla gave a frustrated sigh at his stubbornness as she pushed a field dressing against the wound, hoping the pressure would stop the constant bleed. She threw her head over her shoulder at McKay. "Rodney, do you think you could make it over to Ronon?"

Rodney had been stuck in shocked silence the moment he had seen the two men at the door. His usual torrent of words caught in his throat even as his mind came up with all sorts of things he could be spouting. Sure, maybe the release would have made him feel a little better, but for once his inside voice had spoken, telling him that now was really not the time. Instead he had watched Teyla work, focusing on the rise and fall of John's chest – the only sure sign that the man was still alive.

Teyla's question dragged him out of stupor. His brain gave him a whole lecture that pointed out how his physical condition meant that walking was pretty much impossible and how in all honesty he should really be unconscious by this stage, but his brain to mouth filter was working overtime today. Instead, all he said was "Sure."

Rodney began the slow crawl over to Ronon while Teyla continued to do the best she could to patch up the colonel. She needed to tie the field dressing underneath him, and she would also need to remove his jacket and vest completely to get to the shoulder wounds. She decided to kill two birds with one stone, knowing the movement of lifting him was going to hurt. She came to kneel beside his head, and then slipped both hands beneath his shoulders. In one move she lifted his upper body, straining her own shoulder almost beyond endurance, and shuffled forward so that his head then rested on her knees. She then slipped off the jacket and vest as carefully as she could and secured the field dressing round his middle. John didn't make a sound even though he was conscious, his hazel eyes staring dully at the ceiling.

Meanwhile Rodney made it to Ronon's side, his own jacket that he hadn't gotten round to shredding and a couple of borrowed bandages trailing behind him. He ended up in a half kneel/seated position, his good leg curled under him and his injured leg outstretched. Up close he could hear Ronon's heavy breathing and see the large bloody patches on his coat. "Y-you gonna l-let me l-look?"

Ronon glared at him.

"I-I could l-let you bl-bleed out, b-but Sh-Sheppard would g-get mad."

Ronon continued his glare a little longer, and then his eyes flickered over to their team leader. Teyla had moved onto to treating his shoulder, applying a few drops of iodine. Ronon knew from experience that the disinfectant stung like hell, but the Sheppard didn't flinch. He didn't even seem aware of his surroundings at all, his eyes glazed over. If Ronon couldn't have seen the slight movement of his chest, he would have sworn the man was dead.

Even in his near-death state, the colonel had been more concerned about him. Teyla kept glancing over at Ronon, keeping an eye on his condition even as she worked at saving Sheppard. His eyes travelled back to McKay who was patiently waiting for permission to help him, even though he himself was barely conscious. These were the people he had let himself care about for the first time since he had lost everything on Sateda all those years ago. He didn't have to handle things alone. "Fine."

He allowed McKay access to his shredded side, the release of pressure resulting in a fresh flow flooding from the gap. Rodney swallowed another tirade about haemophobia and how already being nauseous and dizzy wasn't helping his ability to not pass out from manly blood loss, and silently set to work. It was unnerving for the scientist to be so quiet, more evidence proving just how dire their current situation really was.

Teyla finished tying a make-shift bandage around the bite wound on John's hand, the last hole she had to plug. Already blood was soaking through the dressings, but there was really little else she could do. She knelt at his side, still holding his freshly wrapped hand. "I have done all that I can, John. You just need to stay with us and we will get you home."

The calm voice broke through the walls he hadn't allowed the pain to cross. He blinked slowly, and turned his head slightly to face her. "Th-that's my…j-job."

"You have done more than enough. You just need to focus on staying awake now. Keep talking to me," she instructed gently. She realised then they no one had confirmed whether or not the plan had even worked. She knew that neither man would have come back if they had failed, but she needed to hear it. She needed to know that the man lying before her hadn't sacrificed his blood in vain. "Was it worth it?"

John smiled, although his usual charm had been drained with his blood. "H-help is-ss-on the w-way…th-thirty minutes t-tops…"

Teyla met his eyes, and the lack of life there scared her. She wanted to be the caring voice that kept promising that he would be okay, but he was a soldier. He knew better than she did what his condition was really. "Can you hang on that long?"

It took him a moment to reply, his silence saying more than his words.

"We'll s-see."

* * *

><p><strong>See, he's still alive, and I even patched him up cause I'm nice like that :P I don't think I can realistically whump him anymore, so the next chap will probably just be some fuzzy team-moments as they wait for rescue<strong>

**See you then!**


	6. The B Team

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis**

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks again to sherry57, JoeyLuv, soccerchic6, sheppardlover928, highonscifi and shepsgirl72 for reviewing! You are now forever immortalised in my Word dictionary as I got annoyed with the squiggly red-lines lol

Amazingly, I don't have anything greatly interesting or important to say here, so we can get straight back to the story and the much-needed rescue!

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six -:- The B-Team<strong>

**Atlantis: Fifteen Minutes Post-Briefing: Jumper 04**

Lorne sat in the pilot's seat of the jumper, his death grip on the controls the only outward sign of his impatience. The Ancient craft reacted to his tension by rather unhelpfully bringing up a clock on the DHD, every second ticking by a second lost. Next to him was Dr. Beckett, looking just as on edge as he did. They had both heard the transmission. It had made them gear-up in minutes; now they were just waiting for the others.

If Lorne were being honest and not feeling quite so tightly wound, he would have been proud of how fast his team had responded. They were only minutes behind him, nearly prepped and ready in half the normal time. It had to have been a record, but at that point, nothing felt fast enough.

Lieutenant Henson, a young airman green to the Atlantis expedition darted through the rear-hatch of the jumper, still clipping his P90 to his vest. He was closely followed by the slightly more experienced Captains' Levitt and Myers, the latter smacking the door release the moment he stepped over the threshold. Lorne's team was assembled and ready to go.

"This is Jumper 04 to control tower, ready for launch."

"_Not a moment too soon, Major," _Elizabeth Weir answered over the radio. He knew she would be standing in her usual place watching with a sense of helplessness from the control tower perch. _"You have a Go. Bring our people home."_

"Yes ma'am," Lorne replied formally, more from habit that actual necessity. He nodded to Beckett "Dial the gate."

The doctor hit the buttons in rapid succession as Lorne instructed the Jumper out of the bay. They lowered slowly into the gate room as the portal burst to life in an explosion of exotic matter particles. Lorne caught Elizabeth's eyes as the Jumper panned around to face the blue pool, a silent communication passing between them. The clock on the HUD kept on ticking. They disappeared through the wormhole.

Something hit the windscreen with a thud.

"What the hell was that?" Henson yelled from the seat behind Beckett. He wasn't the most professional soldier, which was probably why he fit in so well on Atlantis. "It looks like Golem!"

Lorne had to admit the boy wasn't far wrong. The creature flattened against the glass definitely shared some common features with the fantasy character. But that wasn't what was important. What concerned him more was that the Golem-creature wasn't alone. The gate entered into an open courtyard strewn with rubble and full of frenzied beasts.

The things threw themselves blindly at the Jumper, attracted to the gentle hum of the machines engines. The second the Jumper cleared the gate the drive-pods extended and Lorne piloted the craft into a steep climb.

He shared a look with Beckett as they gained altitude. Now that they had seen the things they had a much better idea what had been happening as Colonel Sheppard had been calling. Had he survived a one-on-one encounter with that horde? Was that even possible?

"Let's pick up the pace."

* * *

><p><strong>The Tower<strong>

Lt. Colonel John Sheppard was completely numb. He was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing. He hadn't taken any pain relievers so he knew he really should be in agony, but he couldn't feel a thing. He couldn't muster the energy to be afraid, so instead he settled for relieved. He could still remember vividly the pain he had felt earlier; he didn't want to experience it again.

He was as conscious as he was going to get, eyes wide open even if he couldn't focus properly on anything. Everything was only visible through a strange haze that was drained of colour. Everything sounded like it was coming from miles away, his ears clogged with proverbial cotton wool. He was so thirsty, his throat bone dry.

"Come on, John, talk to me," Teyla pressed, a touch of panic in her voice that she couldn't completely conceal. It didn't really matter though, she could have been screaming at him and it would probably have sounded the same.

He blinked, the only action other than breathing he could confidently do. "'Bout what?"

He spoke on a careful exhale, his voice barely louder than the breath. Teyla gave him a small smile as if to congratulate him on the successful completion of the two syllables. But then again, if he thought about it, he really shouldn't be conscious at this point. He'd probably be proud of her if the situation was reversed. "Anything."

He excelled himself by pulling off a half-smile. "That na…rrows it…down…"

Teyla gave a short laugh, though there were tears in her eyes. She wouldn't cry, John knew that. She was too strong to break down in front of him. "Why did you become a pilot?"

It was a good choice of topic really, John thought. He had been in Teyla's place before, having to keep a wounded soldier talking. More than once, actually. He had had way too much experiencing with watching people die. It was at this time when men were most honest; there's no need to lie when you probably won't even see the person again. Or anyone else for that matter. But still he gave his stock answer. "Think peo…ple who don't…wanna fly…are crazy…" he took a breath, and found himself still talking "And it…pissed off…my dad…"

He blinked again, confused by his own words. Obviously blood loss and oxygen deprivation was loosening his tongue. Honestly, that wasn't the reason. Sure, the chance to go against his father's master plan for his life had played a part in the decision, but it was mainly because he had wanted to fly.

But now he had opened up a can of worms and Teyla was looking at him curiously. Of course she was, those four words were probably the most personal he had ever said. She didn't even know he had a family; no one on the expedition did. It was amazing how knocking on Death's door could make even the most private person spill their secrets.

"So you joined the Air Force in order to rebel?" Teyla asked, partly because she was curious but mainly because when he was talking she could be sure that he was alive. Nearby, Rodney and Ronon sat side-by side propped against the wall by the door. She could tell they were listening as well.

_No._ John wanted to say. He wanted to list all the right reasons why he had joined. The things he had written in his entrance essay that had so impressed the recruitment officer at the Academy. Instead an old memory surfaced and he found himself talking again. "No…my rebe…lion…was when I…hijacked…the family…chopper…to im…press a…girl…"

"Your f-family has a he-helicopter?" Rodney piped up, obviously intrigued. He remembered their conversation over the Latin plaque that seemed to have happened days ago. He recalled Sheppard's muttered comment about having to be both rich and smart to get into Milton Academy. McKay had learned more about his team leader and friend in the last five minutes than he had the last two years.

"Had." John corrected in a short breath. "Didn't have…a licence…n-never landed…before…crashed…a little. Nearly…killed us…both…"

He had been in his senior year at Milton when in order to impress the French-exchange student Coralie Benoit he had promised to fly her to senior prom in his chopper. Being a bit of a show-off he had tried to land the bird in the school's main courtyard. However he had clipped the tail rotor on a roof on the way in and had pretty much nose-dived the chopper into the grass. Coralie had never spoken to him again.

"And th-they still let you fl-fly in the mi-military?" Rodney asked incredulously.

"Actually…impressed…academy…rep…that I…managed…to land…no…casualties…" John replied. It was getting harder to talk. He let his eyes stay closed for a little longer every time he blinked. He was running out of time.

Where the hell was the bloody rescue?

* * *

><p><strong>Kallipolis Airspace: Twenty Minutes Post-Briefing: Jumper 04<strong>

Lorne levelled off the jumper and replaced the clock on the HUD with a topographical map of the city below. He scanned the screen for signs of the creatures they had just met, but there were no corresponding dots on the screen. He was confused for a millisecond, concerned that they wouldn't be able to track them, but pushed that aside when he saw a small cluster of blips.

"There's four," Beckett voiced the relief Lorne was feeling. "We're not too late."

_Yet._ Was the unspoken word that echoed around the Jumper. The dots were situated in a building almost dead centre of the city, a half-hour walk from the gate. It was in the middle of an octagonal-square, helpfully taking up any potential landing space. "The closest place to land is this courtyard here. Less than a klick from their position."

It was going to be tight, but Lorne was the second-best pilot in Atlantis. He banked the Jumper round to bring it in for final approach. He purposely turned the craft round so that the rear hatch would be facing the direction of the tower. He lowered the Jumper down, barely a foot of airspace on either side between them and the buildings. He settled her gently, but then she suddenly listed to one side on the uneven ground with a heavy crash.

The craft was designed for space travel so despite the nasty sound Lorne instinctively knew she was fine. But he had hoped to keep their approach silent; the mighty clang had echoed through the deserted streets, attracting the creatures like moths to a flame.

"Damnnit," Lorne hissed under his breath. Through the windscreen he could see the shadows of the beasts bounding across rooftops. They'd be on them in seconds. How could the things move so fast? He got up from his seat, and headed into the rear of the Jumper where the rest of his team was, Beckett close behind. He collected his P90 and clipped it to his vest as he talked

"We've got company, didn't get a good look at numbers but let's just go with a lot for now. The colonel told us that they're attracted to sound, so the moment you open fire you're painting a target on you, but it's too late for stealth now. We don't have time to wait for them to move on. We're going with formation Bravo, keeping the Doc in the centre. Don't stop moving."

The four men nodded at his instructions, they arranged themselves accordingly. Lorne and Myers taking point, side by side at the hatch, weapons raised. Beckett stood behind them, 9mm ready, a compact med-kit on his back. Henson and Levitt were on six, expressions schooled by years of training.

"Let's go get our people."

Lorne hit the door release and the rear hatch began its descent. The creatures were everywhere, some already airborne, launching themselves at the mechanical whine and the flesh that the sound promised.

SGA-2 opened fire.

* * *

><p><strong>The Tower<strong>

The constant rat-a-tat of gunfire echoed around the city, carrying all the way to the tower and the ears of the four occupants. "That's…P90…fire…" John whispered, his soldier's instincts well attuned to the comforting sound. "Less…than…a klick…away…"

The relieved smile on Teyla's face glowed in the growing darkness of his vision. She gave the uninjured part of his hand a gentle squeeze, though he barely felt the gesture. "Just a little bit longer, John. It is almost over now. We will be home soon."

She was right about one thing. It really was almost over – for him. He could feel himself slipping away, and he was powerless to stop it. It was taking more and more effort to keep his eyes open, and the sheer will it took to form words was beginning to leave him too.

Ronon lost his patience, well whatever patience he had, at that point. He could see that Sheppard was hanging on by a fragile thread, and it frustrated him that he couldn't help. He couldn't wait anymore. With barely a grunt of pain he pushed himself up onto his feet, swaying for only a second before he was moving again.

"Where do you think you are going?" Teyla asked as Ronon picked up her abandoned P90. His energy weapon had barely any charge left, and the automatic earth gun had proven more effective against the creatures anyway.

"_We_ are going to go meet them," Ronon muttered walking over to her. He passed a look at Sheppard "We don't have time to wait anymore. We know that help's close by so let's save them a trip and go to them. Help me with Sheppard."

"No…" John managed. He had tried to put some force behind the word, to make it into an order, but it came out as more of a strained wheeze. "Wait…"

"He is right, Ronon," Teyla continued for him. He could never express how grateful he was for her to take over. He let his eyes close. "We are in no condition to fight. We have only one P90 between us. We would be a liability to them. Even if we were to leave with the best intentions, we would likely just be making their job harder. Right now they must know where we are, if we move it will take them longer to find us. Believe me Ronon, I _know_ how much you want to leave this place, but for now we must wait."

Ronon held her gaze for a moment, knowing that she was right but not wanting to give up. He gave a small nod of consent which Teyla returned, and then his eyes trailed back to John. The pilot lay completely still, eyes closed. "Sheppard!"

Teyla's attention snapped back to her patient. He wasn't moving. The reassuring rise and fall of chest had stopped. He wasn't breathing.

"John!"

* * *

><p><strong>Kallipolis: Twenty-Five Minutes Post-Briefing: On the Ground<strong>

Thirty. They had to have killed thirty by now. Maybe more. And yet there were still so many.

Lorne and his team had kept a steady pace, closing at least half the distance between the Jumper and the targets. Their formation was holding, allowing them to cover 360° degrees, stopping the creatures from getting close. But they couldn't hold it up much longer. They were burning through ammo at a ridiculous rate, and they still had a return trip to make.

The good news was that the hydra-like replacement method was slowing. When they'd first left the Jumper they had found for every creature they killed, two more would appear, the reinforcements drawn by the racket. But now the numbers were finally starting to thin out. If they were lucky, they might take out the whole population of the things.

But Lorne knew luck was something they couldn't rely on. The creatures were smart, even if they did seem mindless. Their best tactical feature was their massive numbers; and they were using them to run down their ammunition. There would be a swarm waiting for them the moment they were defenceless.

They had travelled three-quarters of a klick by the time they finally killed the last creature. There had to have been close to hundred, the path back to the Jumper lined with carcasses. Lorne ordered them to a halt with a raised fist, allowing silence to settle. No more creatures came.

With a wave of his hand they continued onwards, not even Beckett's untrained steps making a sound.

They made it all the way to the Tower structure in the centre of the city without meeting anymore resistance. Despite their obvious intelligence, the creatures apparently needed sound to trigger an attack. At the door, Henson, Myers and Levitt made a perimeter as Lorne waved a hand over the control. The door obliged with a quiet hiss, and the major found himself at the business end of a P90.

"About time." The gruff Satedan at the other end of the weapon muttered. He lowered it and stepped aside so that Beckett could enter. Lorne didn't retaliate to the comment knowing that he would probably be just as short with him if the situation was reversed. He waved his team in and the door closed with a click behind them.

He couldn't speak anyway when he saw his CO. Colonel Sheppard lay on the ground between a distraught Teyla and Beckett, covered in blood. Lorne could see from the number of bandages just how many wounds covered his body. His skin was drained of colour; it couldn't even be described as pale, more of a lifeless grey. Hearing the normally collected Athosian trip over her own words as she tried to explain to the doctor his condition told Lorne just how bad it was. He didn't need Beckett's prognosis.

"He's alive, but barely," Beckett explained even as he continued working. He couldn't do much, knowing that they would be moving soon. "I'd say he has less than an hour. A lot less."

The ticking clock echoed louder in Lorne's head. It fell to him to come up with a plan, but he needed to stop and take stock for a moment. His team were still at full strength, but they had all eaten through over half their ammo. Teyla and Ronon seemed capable of moving unassisted, but McKay was barely conscious and Sheppard was…well not good. Then there was the unknown factor of the creatures.

"Do you have a way of tracking those things? They didn't show up on the Jumper's HUD," he asked Ronon. The Satedan seemed the most coherent of the team, Teyla still fretting with Beckett. Lorne had noticed the blood on his coat though, and judging by the way the large man was standing, it wasn't all Sheppard's.

"Yeah," Ronon replied pulling out the life signs detector and handing it over. It activated in response to Lorne's ATA gene. He was shocked to see the sheer volume of dots throughout the city. "What you thinking?"

"These things are attracted to sound, right? As in _any_ sound?" Lorne asked. The dots on the screen were accumulated around both the Stargate and the Jumper, the two places they really needed the dots _not_ to be. Ronon nodded. "They're blocking our exits. What we need is a really loud distraction. You reckon a couple blocks of C4 taking out a building would be enough?"

A look crossed Ronon's face that Lorne didn't recognise. "Sheppard had the same idea, but he forgot the C4."

"Great minds think alike," Lorne muttered quietly. Then he addressed them all "There's another tower two streets over that I'm about to go and blow up. It should get all those things running towards it and away from the Jumper and the gate. Myers, I want you to take point and lead everyone back to the Jumper. I don't think I need to tell you to keep silent. Let's move."

Lorne disappeared while the others sorted out travel arrangements. Henson and Levitt carried the colonel between them while Beckett helped a one-legged, half-conscious Rodney. Teyla, calmer now that they were moving, took six, walking close to Ronon. Despite what he led the others to believe, he was seriously injured, and Teyla could see the slight stagger in his step.

They were halfway to the Jumper when the explosion rocked the city. Lorne must have used a lot more than a 'few' blocks of C4. As the structure collapsed the ground actually shook beneath their feet, the aftershock taking out even more buildings. The air was then full of excited squeals and the scattering of claws as the creatures rushed eagerly towards it. The explosion was probably the loudest thing that they had heard in a very long time.

The distraction worked like a charm, and the group met no resistance. The courtyard the Jumper was parked in remained deserted. They all bundled inside and took their seats, ready to go as soon as Lorne arrived not five minutes later.

With both SGA-1 and 2 on board, the Jumper took to the air.

* * *

><p><strong>Kallipolis: Forty-Two Minutes Post-Briefing: Jumper 04<strong>

"Atlantis, this is Jumper 04. We have multiple medical emergencies inbound. Have medical teams on stand-by. We're coming home."

* * *

><p><strong>Yay! They survived! :D<strong>

**As you've probably guessed, this fic is now coming to an end. I'm far better at the 'hurt' part of 'hurt/comfort' so I'm not going to write a load of chapters about John's long and arduous recovery. Just assume it was very long and very arduous while I cheat and do a time-jump lol**

**See you at the last chap!**


	7. Home

**Stargate Atlantis -:- Kallipolis**

**Author's Notes: **

Super-duper thanks to sherry57, soccerchic6, JoeyLuv, sheppardlover928, CindyT63 and shepsgirl72 for reviewing the last chapter, as well as to everyone who has read/alerted/favourited and/or reviewed throughout this fic. Oh, and thank you in advance to anyone intending to review in the future – my muse loves you all! :P

As I warned at the end of last chap, this is the end of Kallipolis (literally, as you will find out).

Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven -:- Home<strong>

Lt. Col. John Sheppard was flying.

He had enough sense to know that that probably wasn't true; but that's what it felt like. He was weightless and pain free, swept along on a cloud of fluffy goodness. _Yep,_ he thought distantly, _Carson gave me the good drugs._

He recognised the feeling from the many times he had found himself on the receiving end of something nasty, although at that point he couldn't remember what had happened. Trying to focus took _way_ too much effort, so he settled for floating in the serene calm. He could stay there for a while, he decided. They'd wake him up if anything required his desperate attention.

But every now and again, he would get bored. The comforting haze pretty much meant he was doing nothing, and although John admitted he was naturally lazy, there was only so much inactivity he could take. So every time he began to feel a little stir crazy, he would make the effort to wake up. He usually regretted it pretty quick, but at least he was doing something.

Every time he would be met with an evilly bright light that hurt him a lot more than it had any right to. The first few times that had been enough to send him running, or really, floating, back to the drug-induced haze, but eventually he'd plucked up the courage to stick around a little longer. He would never admit it later, but he had been ecstatic when he had successfully moved his pinky finger. He could tell someone else was just as happy by the voices that came from somewhere very far away.

He couldn't tell what the voices were saying, or who they belonged to, but just knowing they were there was enough.

He had no idea how long it had been since whatever the incident that had led to this state, but after a while he got _really_ bored. That's when he decided that this time, when he broke out of the cloudy-prison, he was going to stay awake for a whole five minutes. He might even try talking as well as a little bit of movement. He was just brave like that.

Once again he pushed out of the haze. Even before he opened his eyes to the inevitable glaring light, he could hear the voices. This time he could recognise them, although they all sounded as if they had a cold to his ears. Teyla was closest, and he really hoped it was her that was holding his hand. Someone else was chattering a mile a minute – that had to be Rodney. He couldn't hear Ronon, but the Satedan rarely talked anyway, so John wasn't really surprised.

Encouraged, he made the bold choice to open his eyes. Again, the light did its best to dissuade him, but a few blinks soon made it seem a lot duller. He tried to focus, but his vision remained stubborn, allowing him only to see vague outlines and hints of colour. He could see Teyla, hovering to his right. He couldn't quite make out her face, but she seemed tense and expectant. It took a lot more out of him than it should have, but he managed to give her hand a squeeze. It had the desired effect, the relief flooding off her in waves.

And last but not least, he tried to talk. The drugs were already trying to drag him back; but he had set himself a goal, and he would be damned if he was backing out now. His mouth was as dry as a bone and his throat burned, but he managed a hoarse syllable

"Hey."

* * *

><p><strong>Two Days Post-Mission to M78-297<strong>

"Raise the shield!"

Major Lorne yelled as he and his team stumbled back through the gate. He had walked through the blue pool backwards, P90 in one hand, a remote trigger in the other. He had been the last, waiting for Henson, Levitt and Myers to return first. The second the shield coated the open wormhole, he had the satisfaction of pulling the trigger.

Light flashed against the translucent screen, the concussion of the explosion rocking the gate room. The wormhole then shut down with a whine, no longer able to connect to the other gate.

"And good riddens!" cheered the excitable Lieutenant Henson, ever the professional soldier. Captain Myers threw him a look, although the young airmen had voiced what they had all been feeling. They had literally closed the door on a mission they would all rather forget. Lorne had planted enough C4 on the gate and the surrounding area to take out a skyscraper; he did have a tendency to go a little overboard, effectively cutting off the planet. No one else would go through what SGA-1 did.

Lorne turned away from his team and looked up at the control room. As expected, Elizabeth Weir was standing there watching their return. She looked just as happy about the closed chapter as Henson, although she was presenting it with a little more dignity. "Mission complete, ma'am!" he called up at her.

"Very good, Major," Elizabeth smiled broadly. "Did you meet any resistance?"

"None," Lorne replied. "The UAV distracted them long enough for us to lay the charges." They had sent through an Unmanned Aerial Vehicle rigged with explosives before the team went through themselves. It had been Zelenka's idea; knowing now that the creatures would definitely head towards the sound of the explosion, it had been an obvious distraction tactic. They really should have thought of it earlier, but 20:20 hindsight couldn't change the past. At least they had gotten everyone home.

"Good," she repeated, although the word didn't do justice to the relief she was feeling. Finally, this hell was over.

* * *

><p><strong>Two Weeks Later<strong>

Elizabeth Weir paused briefly outside of the Infirmary door. She had come by every day since SGA-1 had returned, and as such she had seen snapshots of their gradual recoveries, but she still hated seeing them in there. She always hesitated at the door, trying to mentally prepare herself. She had made the mistake of just rushing in the first time, and had been frozen in shock at what she had seen.

The image of the blood covered team flashed in her mind; painfully reminding her of how close they had cut it. She remembered seeing John, completely ashen and still. He looked dead. At that point she had thought they had been too late. She should have known that Carson would perform a medical miracle and pull him back from the brink.

But that had been two weeks ago. Things had greatly improved since then. Teyla had been released a little over a week ago, although she had spent just as much time in the infirmary as she had before. Rodney had been let loose with crutches yesterday, much to the fear of his underlings. Teyla had informed her that Rodney had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole incident, and obviously now that things were coming to an end he had a quota of angry rants to meet – his poor science team had received the brunt of his pent-up tension.

There were only two official residents left to recover in the infirmary. Ronon had been far more seriously injured than anyone had realised. He had been bleeding internally during the whole wait for rescue, and Carson had had to perform emergency surgery to save his life. Although the whole time the Satedan was conscious he had insisted that he was fine and that Beckett should focus on Sheppard.

John had only woken up a few days ago. It had only been for a few minutes, but it had been enough to quell the suspense that even in the infirmary under Carson's expert care he might not make it. But beyond all odds, John had pulled through. Just. The last time she had seen him he wasn't exactly conscious, and he still spent 90% of his time asleep. Carson said that that was for the best. As long as he was asleep he was healing. He wasn't looking forward to John being wide awake and restless, wanting to keep active despite his injuries.

Convinced that she was ready to face the team as the calm and in control leader she was, Elizabeth waved her hand over the door control, and stepped into the infirmary. Carson was sitting at his desk nearby, still working despite his haggard appearance. He gave a tired smile. "Back again, love?"

Elizabeth nodded. "How are they doing, Carson?"

"Much better now, they're both improving daily," he answered, standing from his seat and looking in the direction of the curtained-off area where the two men were recovering. "Though Ronon won't stay cooped up much longer. If he had his way he would have been released with Teyla last week. John's awake at the moment, if you want to go see them. Rodney and Teyla are in there as well, tormenting the poor lads with lunch when neither of them are on solids yet."

Elizabeth smiled knowingly. The team was a walking contradiction; they worked so well together cause they were so dysfunctional – like a family. "Thanks, Carson. Maybe you should think about getting some rest now. You're no good to anyone if your near-collapse yourself."

Carson made a short noise that translated to an 'I'll take that under advisement' and returned to his work, making Elizabeth shake her head at him. She then walked the short distance to the curtains. They weren't completely closed and she could see through the small gap. The team were talking, and she couldn't bring herself to interrupt, so she hovered just outside for a moment.

"Did you really crash your family helicopter?" Rodney asked. He sat between the two beds, his injured leg propped up on another chair. Teyla was on John's other side, a seat that was fast becoming 'her' spot.

John was propped up on a mountain of pillows; he hated being forced to lie down so that everyone had to look down at him. He looked confused at Rodney's question, his expression morphing slightly into a deer in the headlights look. "How do you know that?"

"You told us," Teyla explained gently. His memory was a little vague at the moment, but Carson had assured him that he'd regain it eventually.

"Oh," John muttered, calming a little, though Elizabeth could see that he was still guarded. She hadn't heard the story and was eager to hear it. She knew nothing of John's past, other than what was in his black-marked file. She could see him debating between saying he was delirious or just admitting it. He went with the latter. "Well, yeah, I did. Picked up Coralie Benoit for senior prom and lost the tail rotor while trying to land in the schoolyard. Not my proudest moment."

Elizabeth suppressed a laugh, not wanting to give away that she was listening in.

"You're such a Kirk," Rodney retorted, and the others joined in with the gentle ribbing.

With a smile, Elizabeth backed away from the curtain, no longer needing to interrupt. She had seen all she needed to in order to confirm that things were well on the way to returning to normality. This was her second-favourite moment; after the excitement of pre-missions, she loved the relief of a completed one. Seeing a gate-team return safely made the days of taut nerves worth it.

And secretly, she always felt especially happy to see SGA-1 come home. She hated playing favourites, but there was something about John Sheppard and his team that made her love them more. She didn't know what she would do if one day they didn't return. But she couldn't think of that.

She was just glad that they were home.

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>And that's it, this fic is officially finished. Hope you have all enjoyed! <strong>

**I do have another SGA fic currently stuck in the planning stage that I'm hoping to start writing soon. It's going to be a lot longer with a more complicated plot (which is why it's taking longer to plan lol) Here's a little synopsis to whet your appetite:**

An explosion rocks Atlantis with Sheppard caught in the middle, but that's only the beginning of his day-off from hell. Something is loose in the city, and it's using the residents to reach its goal: total control. Shep-whump fest, implied Sheyla. Set late season 5.

**Look out for 'The Collective' coming soon! See you then (hopefully!)**


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